Into the Fire
by JamiW
Summary: Sequel to In From the Cold...after a year of undercover work with the FBI, Goren and Eames are back at Major Case.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This picks up immediately post-_In from the Cold_. You probably need to have read that one to get this one, and if it's been awhile, you MIGHT want to reread at least the last chapter.**

**A/N2: This story is NOT MC. I love Barek, and I love Barek WITH Logan, but she's not in this story (yet), and he's too cute to stay alone for long.**

* * *

Bobby POV

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Logan and I were in the car, heading for the crime scene.

He was driving, but not because he'd won the argument. It was just that I preferred to be a passenger.

It gave me time to think without the stress of dealing with traffic.

And for the moment, I was thinking about how worried I'd been about who I might get as a partner.

"He asked me not to," Logan replied "Although I only found out for sure last week, while you guys were gone."

"So Moran asked you to keep it quiet and you did? That's not exactly the best way to start a partnership."

"I think he wanted to know if he could trust me."

"So you've proven yourself to him…"

"And now we have no more secrets between us," he finished firmly. "My first priority is to my partner, not the brass. You know me better than that."

And I did.

I trusted Logan.

As partners went, if I couldn't have Alex, then he was without a doubt the next best thing.

"Well, as long as we're being honest, then I've got to tell you…I _do_ have a little bit of loyalty to the brass."

"I know," he said with a nod. Then he grinned and added, "So does Moran know that you're knocking boots with the boss?"

"No," I said quickly, unable to keep from chuckling at Logan's colorful choice of wording. "Or at least, I don't think so. And we're going to keep it that way."

"Hey, you don't have to worry about me. I think it's great. And maybe this time around, since I have an _in_, I won't get into quite so much trouble."

"You think Alex is going to go easy on you?"

"You mean Captain Eames, right?" he asked with a smirk.

He had me there.

I was going to have to work a little harder on keeping her roles separate in my mind.

"Yeah," I agreed quickly. "Sorry. This past year has been…well, different."

"There's going to be an adjustment period. I get it. For me, too. Don't forget, I worked in a small-town police department for a year, and then I was unemployed for a year. It might take me a couple of cases to get my Major Case legs back, too."

By this time, we were nearing the scene, so Logan pulled the car to the side of the road and cut off the engine.

"Hey, Goren…I've got your back, okay? Personally and professionally."

"I appreciate that," I replied.

And I really did.

I'd been concerned about who might be my partner, not only because it would be who I'd have to work with, but also because partners spent a lot of time together, and personal lives often became unveiled.

If I'd been paired with anyone but Logan, I would've had a tough time making sure that I never let on about my relationship with Alex.

_Captain Eames_, I corrected.

But since it was Logan and he already _knew_...well, it would make things a lot easier. And it's not like I planned to throw her across the desk in her office, but it was still nice to know that I wouldn't have to censor every single conversation.

Although I did have to admit to having this nice little fantasy worked out in my head where the two of us were alone in her office late at night…

_Focus, Goren_, I reminded myself. Now wasn't the time for indulging in that type of thing.

Right now, I had a job to do.

I knew that Alex was relieved about this latest development, too.

The one downside to her accepting the captain job was that she would no longer have my back.

But with Logan…again, it was really a best-case scenario. I could almost kiss Moran for having come up with the idea.

"So," Logan said as we got out of the car. "The vic is a councilman's son."

"Yeah. The press is going to be all over it," I agreed.

"Well, we'd better do it right then. We want to make the new boss look good, right?"

We flashed our badges to the officer manning the barricade and then slipped beneath the tape and headed for the dumpster.

We got to the receptacle and looked over the edge.

Dr. Rodgers was inside, crouched in the filth, apparently wanting to check out the body before moving it from where it had been found.

She was nothing if not thorough and I found myself grateful for the fact that she was the ME assigned to this case.

"Detective Goren," she greeted as she stood up, grabbing onto the edge with one gloved hand. "I see the powers that be didn't waste any time throwing you back into the ring."

"We didn't even sit down at our desks yet," I agreed.

"And Detective Logan. I need to get better sources. I had no idea that you were coming back."

"Good to see you, too, Doc," he told her, holding out his hand to help her out of the dumpster. "What have you got for us?"

"Aside from the fact that this dumpster should be emptied more often?" she replied as she shook her foot in an attempt to remove a stuck-on piece of…something unidentifiable. "Your vic is eighteen-year-old Adam McIvor, son of Councilman Garrett McIvor. Although I'm sure you already know that, since it's been deemed a Major Case."

"We didn't know which one," I told her. "From what I've heard, McIvor's a decent guy, isn't he?"

"He's a politician," Rodgers replied with a shrug. "Anyway, the cause of death seems fairly obvious, so I don't expect to find any surprises there."

Because it was hard to miss the fact that the victim had a neat bullet hole in the middle of his forehead.

"Looks like small caliber," I stated.

"If I had to guess, I'd say a twenty-two, but I didn't see any casings while I was dumpster diving, so I'll leave the searching up to you two."

"What about the TOD?" Logan asked.

"I'd say approximately twelve hours ago, which would put it at about ten or eleven o'clock last night."

"You're going to run a full tox screen," I stated.

"Of course. I know you boys are going to be getting a lot of pressure to solve this one, so I'll be as quick as possible to give you the complete rundown. As soon as you're done with him, I'll have my guys get him back to the morgue so that I can get started. I should know something in a few hours."

"Thanks, Doc," Logan told her. He pulled a business card from his wallet and jotted down his cell phone number. He handed it to her, flashing her a smile, and said, "Call us when you have something."

Rodgers took the card and then gathered her supplies as I climbed into the dumpster.

"If that's what you get out of being the senior partner, then you can have it," Logan remarked as my foot slid down into the muck.

"We need to get CSU to bag everything in here," I told him.

"They're going to love you."

"No defensive wounds," I commented as I bent down to get a closer look. "Stippling on the entrance wound, but no bruising."

"So he didn't have the gun jammed against his head for long," Logan remarked. "Whoever popped him wasn't trying to get information out of him. And it wasn't for money, either. The kid still has his wallet."

"Yeah, but check this out," I said, pointing to the right hand of the victim. There was an indentation on his ring finger.

"Someone stole his class ring?"

"Some kind of ring," I agreed.

"How much cash in the wallet?"

"Eighty-seven dollars."

"So he's killed at close range, the ring is stolen, but the cash is left behind."

"And the killer took the time to toss him in the dumpster."

"Okay," Logan said speculatively as I climbed back out of the dumpster. "So…political or random?"

"Uh…Detectives?"

I looked up to see a uniformed officer approaching us.

"What is it?"

"The victim's father is here. Councilman McIvor," he clarified, as though we didn't know. "He insists on seeing his son."

"Now isn't really the time, Broderick," I said after scanning the officer's name tag. "Keep him behind the tape. We'll be right there to speak with him."

"I want to see my son!" came the shout from twenty yards away.

"Have I mentioned how much I hate politicians?" Logan mumbled. "They think they're so entitled…"

"I'll handle him," I said, and it didn't escape my notice that I'd turned into the good will ambassador of the partnership. It seemed as though I'd completely taken on Alex's role while Logan assumed mine.

"Be my guest," he replied as I walked away from him in an effort to meet the councilman on neutral territory.

"I want to see my son," he repeated. "You have no right to keep me from him."

"Sir, I'm Detective Goren with Major Case," I said smoothly. "Why don't you step over here with me for a moment so that I can ask you a few questions."

"Are you deaf? I want to see Adam! Don't make me call the commissioner."

"Sir…" I said again. He attempted to shove past me, but Logan stepped up next to me and together we prevented him from going to the dumpster.

"You really don't want to see him like this," Logan told him. "Give our colleagues a chance to get him out of there and onto a gurney and then we'll give you a moment."

He stopped fighting us and I took the opportunity to give him the once-over.

He was probably in his mid-forties, well-dressed, and had an athletic build. I hadn't heard too much about him, and when politics were involved that was a good sign. There must not be any scandals involving him or his family. Otherwise I would've seen it on the news.

He ran his hands over his face, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Logan cast me a worried glance and then looked back at the progress of the ME assistants who were pulling the body from the dumpster.

"So…your son," I began. "Does he live with you?"

"He's eighteen," he snapped back.

"He's in college?" Logan asked.

"NYU."

"He lives in the dorms?" I asked him. He scoffed at me and shook his head as though I was an idiot.

"He's a freshman. What do you think?"

I thought he was being a complete asshole, but I kept that observation to myself.

"Was he having any trouble with anyone lately?"

"My son was a textbook child," he answered haughtily. "He made straight A's, he had plenty of friends, plenty of girlfriends, and he didn't get into trouble."

"Plenty of girlfriends," Logan said. "Did he bounce around a lot?"

I caught Logan's eye and he shrugged fractionally. Neither one of this thought this crime looked like that of a scorned lover, but I figured that Logan was just trying to get him to talk.

However, what he did was piss him off.

"Are you saying my son was a dog? What's your name, Detective? I think the commissioner would be interested to hear about how his employees are treating bereaved family members. My son was _murdered_ and you're trying to say that it was his fault?"

"No, sir," he said quickly. "I didn't mean that."

"Councilman, we're just trying to get a feel for who might have wanted your son dead," I spoke up.

McIvor continued to stare at Logan, and then I noticed that he narrowed his eyes slightly and took a step closer to him.

"You still didn't mention your name," McIvor said.

"Detective Logan," he answered as he showed him his badge. "I believe my partner already mentioned that we're with Major Case and we're going to do everything in our power to…"

"Logan," McIvor interrupted. "I should've known. You son of a bitch."

And from nowhere, McIvor took a swing at my partner.

Logan ducked the blow and I grabbed onto McIvor, wrapping both arms around him from behind in an effort to get him under control.

But like I said, he was in pretty good shape and for some reason, he really wanted to hit Logan. I ended up having to wrestle him against the wall where I pushed him into the bricks, holding him in place with my body.

"Sir, please. Don't make me put cuffs on you," I said.

"Detective, you'd better get off of me right this minute. Your job depends on it," McIvor spat.

"Not if you're going after my partner, I'm not. Now settle down and I'll let you go."

I kept him in place for another minute while he apparently decided to take the high road.

"Okay. Fine. Let me go."

I eased off of him and he turned around, leaning his back against the wall.

"Sir, I think there's been some kind of mistake," Logan said in confusion.

"There's no mistake," McIvor replied derisively. He made no move to go after him physically, but the venom was still in his voice. "I believe you've met my uncle."

"Your uncle? I have no idea who you're talking about."

"Kevin Crossley," McIvor stated.

I glanced back at Logan and was surprised to see the instant recognition.

"My apologies," Logan said.

"You think I want your apology? You damn near ruined his life!"

"I'm not apologizing for going after him for murder," Logan said. "I'm apologizing that you have the misfortune of being that bigot's nephew."

"Logan," I warned, shaking my head. I wasn't sure who Crossley was, but I didn't need him to get into a verbal sparring match with the councilman.

"Your investigation cost him his career," McIvor continued.

"Yeah, well he got his payback. I spent ten years on Staten Island."

Oh…now I was finally on the same page. Crossley was the councilman who Logan had punched, live on TV. It had prompted his removal from the 2-7.

"You should've spent ten years in Rikers," McIvor argued. "And I don't want you anywhere near my son's case."

"Sir, I can assure you that Detective Logan is one of the best in Major Case," I said calmly. "We'll find your son's killer."

McIvor turned his condescending gaze onto me and he shook his head.

"Uh uh. I don't think so. If you're partnered with him, then you must be just as bad. I want someone else. I'm calling the commissioner."

He pulled his phone from his pocket, apparently his desire to see his son's body now a thing of the past.

Which was a good thing because I just realized that during our scuffle, the body had been removed from the dumpster and was now loaded in the back of the OCME van, already on its way to the morgue.

"Can you believe that guy?" Logan asked as McIvor walked out of earshot.

"This is bad, Logan," I said, shaking my head. "This is exactly what we didn't want to have happen."

"Hey, I didn't do anything to provoke the guy."

"I know," I agreed. "Except that you called his uncle a bigot."

"Well…he is," he insisted. "He's homophobic, and he got away with the murder of a fellow councilman. I'm telling you…it was worth the ten years on the island."

"You might get another ten if we don't fix this," I said. "Moran's not going to like the bad PR."

Logan nodded and looked down at the ground for a minute and then he mumbled, "Hey, Goren. Check it out."

I looked in the direction of his gaze. On the sidewalk, where McIvor had been standing, there was some kind of unidentifiable sludge.

"Did that come from his shoes?" Logan asked carefully.

"You don't think…" I began as I bent down to get a closer look. "You can't start throwing around accusations just because you don't like the man."

"Goren…it's from the dumpster. Look at your own shoes."

"I know. So maybe we're a little off with exactly where we were standing. Maybe that came from mine."

"We need another look at his shoes."

I caught Logan's gaze and he nodded at me slowly.

"You know I don't work that way," he said. "I'm not trying to pin anything on him. I'm just saying…we need to check it out."

I knew that he was right. And in the old days, I wouldn't have had any problem investigating a councilman for the murder of his own son.

But right now, all we had was the gunk on the ground. It wasn't hard evidence, but Logan was right. We needed to get another look at his shoes.

I nodded my agreement and together we headed in the direction in which the councilman had gone, but he was nowhere to be found. My eyes tracked the sidewalk, looking for additional evidence of something that may have come off of his shoes, but I didn't see anything.

"Where's McIvor?" Logan asked Broderick.

"He left," he answered. "He said something about a meeting with the commissioner."

"Shit," Logan muttered.

"Let's get CSU to photograph that mess on the sidewalk and then bag it up."

"Uh huh," he agreed. He whistled to one of the techs and then directed him to the designated spot.

I looked down at my shoes again. Had that come from mine?

They were dirty, that was for sure.

But I hadn't been standing so close to the wall. McIvor had been the one right next to it.

But still…a gunshot to the head? Of his own son? And for what reason?

It just didn't make sense.

"This doesn't mean that it's McIvor," I said to Logan when after he finished instructing the tech. "It just means that we need to check out the possibility," I reminded him.

"I know. I can be objective."

"Can you?"

"Yeah," he said sincerely. "I mean, I don't even know this guy. And I don't like the idea of a father killing his own son any more than you do. So let's look at him and rule him out and then we can find out who really did it. Are you with me?"

"I'm with you," I agreed. "But we need to call Al…um…Captain Eames and fill her in on the situation before she gets a call from Moran."

"Good idea. I think I'll let you handle that one."

"Me?" I questioned, although I'd already planned to do so.

He just grinned at me and said, "You are the senior partner, right?"

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Alex POV**

* * *

I spent the first thirty minutes in my office getting acclimated.

Captain Callas had left a page of notes.

Captain Maas had left _several_ pages of notes.

And Chief Moran had left the current week's schedule.

Considering my loathing for paperwork, I briefly wondered if I had made the right choice.

What was Bobby doing right now?

_He was probably sniffing the corpse, determining that four days ago, the victim had showered with Dial soap. _

I chuckled at my musings, mostly because as ridiculous as it sounded, I could perfectly picture him doing exactly that.

But at least he was with Logan. If he couldn't be with me…well, Logan was the next best thing.

I had no doubt that they'd get themselves into trouble from time to time, but they were both mature, intelligent men.

Surely good behavior wouldn't be too much of a stretch.

I decided that learning by doing would get me a lot farther than sitting here reading notes from others, so I began calling in my detectives for updates on their cases.

And I'm not sure if it was my year of absence, or the fact that Bobby and I had been lauded for our undercover work with the Bureau or what, but there weren't any moments of awkwardness like I'd expected.

I mean, most of these detectives were former colleagues, and it was normally tough to move from a position of peer to that of overseer, but not in this case.

Instead, everyone was respectful and professional.

I finished the briefing sessions with a feeling of accomplishment and a rush of pride in myself.

_I could do this job_.

I got a text from my dad as soon as the last pair of detectives left my office.

_**Well?**_

That was all it said.

I knew that he was anxious to find out what had happened this morning, so I took a minute to send him a reply.

_**Would you like to have dinner tonight with Captain Eames?**_

The response was immediate and gushing and full of praise. I sat back in my chair as I read my father's words, and then another text came in.

_**Who is Bobby's partner? Someone good, I hope.**_

I think the second text made me even happier than the first.

My dad truly liked Bobby.

And maybe he wouldn't be crazy about the idea that I was sleeping with one of my detectives, but…he had to know that it had been a long time coming. I still wasn't going to tell him right away, but I would soon enough.

After all, my mother had already sniffed us out.

_**Mike Logan. He's very good.**_

I set my phone down on my desk and picked up the schedule in preparation to work on next week's shifts, but then it buzzed again.

_**THE Mike Logan? Bring him to dinner, too. And Bobby. Seven o'clock at O'Flannery's.**_

I'd forgotten that my dad was a big fan of Logan's. That whole thing with the councilman nearly fifteen years ago. Leave it to my dad to still remember his name.

I replied that I would invite them both, and then got back to work. I'd just barely started when my desk phone rang.

"Eames."

"Didn't I make myself clear about the fact that this councilman case needed to be handled delicately?"

Moran.

And he sounded ticked.

"Yes sir," I answered as my mind ran through possibilities of what kind of trouble they could've gotten into already. It had only been two hours.

"And yet you assigned it to Logan and Goren?"

"You wanted the best," I stated firmly. "That's them."

"Well, the commissioner is on my ass to have them removed. Councilman McIvor says that he was insulted and accosted while trying to identify his son's body. What the hell happened?"

As though on cue, my cell phone started to ring. I glanced at the display and saw that it was Bobby.

"Sir, if you'll give me just a few minutes, I'll get to the bottom of this."

"I'll give you a few minutes. I'll give you the amount of time it takes for me to get down to your office. I want you to call Logan and Goren and get them in here to explain themselves. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir."

I wasn't completely sure if he was done yelling, but I was done listening, and since that seemed like a logical point to end the conversation, I hung up and then answered my cell.

"What happened?"

"What?" Bobby asked in confusion.

"I just got a call from the chief. He's on his way down. And you two had better be on your way to 1PP."

He sighed heavily which told me that Moran was probably not too far off the mark.

Something had definitely happened.

"He called already, huh? I guess good news travels fast."

"I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"I'm sure you didn't get the whole story."

"No, I didn't, because I didn't get any of your story."

"That's why I'm calling now," he replied defensively. "I was trying to get to you before Moran did."

"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath. I needed to get his version of events before I had to defend them in front of Moran. "What happened?"

"The councilman remembered Logan. He's the nephew of the guy from 1995. The one he punched."

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," I muttered.

What were the odds? I mean, of course I knew about that incident, but just because this case involved a councilman…there were fifty-one of them in New York City. And that incident had happened more than fifteen years ago.

"I wish I were," he answered. "But Logan didn't do anything."

I looked through my office windows and saw that Moran was barreling through the squad room.

My time had run out.

"He didn't provoke the councilman?" I asked quickly.

"No."

"And no one accosted him?"

"What? No! I had to subdue him because he took a swing at Logan."

"Okay. I've got to go. Both of you get back here right now."

I hung up without waiting for his reply because I didn't want Moran to come in while I was still on the phone. I shoved my cell in my pocket and got up from my desk.

I should've known the details before I heard them from the chief.

I should know what my detectives are up to.

And I wasn't mad at Bobby. Obviously, he was calling to fill me in.

How fast must McIvor have called the commissioner? It made me not like the man just on principle. I could only imagine how he must have acted towards Bobby and Logan.

"Where are they?" Moran asked when he flung open my door.

Gone was the good-natured guy from a few hours ago. I guess getting your ass reamed by the commissioner tends to put a damper on a person's mood.

"They were still on-scene," I told him. "They'll be here shortly."

"So tell me why I shouldn't pull them off this case," he stated.

He'd closed the door, for which I was grateful. It was bad enough that he'd come storming through the squad room.

I didn't need my detectives listening to me get a dressing-down on my first day.

"Because they've done nothing wrong. You know as well as I do that neither of them accosted McIvor."

"And what about the claim of being insulted?"

He had me there.

It was a distinct possibility.

I decided to deflect the question and get to the heart of the matter.

"Sir, you asked me to handle the situation and that's what I'm doing. I understand that the murder of the relative of a public official makes for a difficult investigation. Goren and Logan might not be the most diplomatic detectives in the department, but they _will_ find the killer. And they won't be afraid to step on toes to do it. Because you know that too often in cases like this, evidence is hidden and lines are drawn."

"That's true," he agreed carefully.

"By giving this case to them, I'm assured that it will be resolved as quickly as humanly possible. And isn't that what we want? To find the boy's killer?"

"Of course."

"McIvor has a grudge against Logan because of that incident more than fifteen years ago. It's surely what prompted his complaints today, and I don't know about you, but I'm not about to let civilians dictate how I run this department."

I said the words and then I held my breath as I wondered if maybe I'd gone too far.

Of course, I hadn't said anything that wasn't true, but this was my boss.

Maybe I needed to learn how to play politics a little better.

I already held the distinction for the shortest amount of time in this office, from nearly a year ago.

Would I now snatch up second place as well?

"You're exactly right," he said at last. He relaxed his posture and took a step back from my desk. "So how does McIvor remember that incident?"

"He's the nephew," I told him as I carefully hid my relief over his sudden attitude change.

"What are the odds?" he muttered and I finally laughed.

"That's exactly what I said. Sir, I'm sorry that you had to field a complaint already, but rest assured Goren and Logan will be on their best behavior while they work this case."

"And you'll stay on top of it."

"Of course."

"Okay," he said with a nod. "Yeah, McIvor's an ass anyway. He thinks he's got the key to the city just because he played a few rounds of golf with the commissioner."

Movement in the squad room caught my eye and I looked out to see Bobby and Logan crossing the room.

"I'll get out of your way," Moran said. "And let you handle your detectives."

"Thank you, sir."

"And Eames," he added, with his hand on the door knob. "You don't play the political ass-kissing game very well, do you?"

I wasn't sure how he expected me to answer that, but I guess he didn't because then he chuckled and shook his head.

"I like that. That's why I wanted you in this office. I don't need another yes man. When I'm wrong, you tell me."

"Yes sir," I agreed with a smile.

He gave me a sharp nod and then opened the door before loudly saying, "Keep up the good work, Captain."

He left my office, nodding at Bobby and Logan as they passed.

The two of them came and stood sheepishly in my doorway.

"Come in," I said as I sat back down at my desk.

"Are we off the case?" Logan asked me hesitantly.

"Should you be?"

"Eames, we didn't do anything wrong," he said quickly. "As soon as McIvor recognized me, he became adversarial and…"

"Sit down," I interrupted. "And start at the beginning."

So they filled me in on what had happened.

"And you didn't insult him?" I asked.

"I said that his uncle is a bigot. And he is," he defended.

"You could've kept that little tidbit to yourself," I reminded him. "But I can understand why you didn't. Okay, so where are you with the case?"

"We need to get access to McIvor's shoes," Bobby said.

"His shoes? Why?"

"They were filthy," Logan said. "Like his."

He tipped his head towards Bobby's shoes and I stood up from the chair so that I could see what he was talking about.

"And that's from…"

"The dumpster," Bobby said. "I climbed in to look over the body before they moved it."

"And McIvor's shoes looked the same? So wait. You're saying that he's a suspect?"

"We don't know," Bobby answered, although Logan was nodding his head emphatically.

"Just because he's a jerk doesn't make him guilty. Not of murder, anyway."

"I'm telling you, boss. His shoes left a stain on the sidewalk. We had CSU take pictures, and they bagged up what was there. The lab should be able to match it up to what was in the dumpster."

"But you can't prove that it was off of McIvor's shoes. It could've come from Goren's. And why would McIvor kill his own son?"

"We have no idea."

"Well find out," I told them. "Quietly. Without a search warrant for McIvor's shoes. You need to find motive to go along with your theory."

"So we're still on the case?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, so why are you still sitting around in here? Get back to work."

I was rewarded with smiles from both of them, but only one of them caused me to have inappropriate thoughts. Bobby held my gaze for an extra moment before turning to follow Logan out of my office.

_First crisis averted_, I thought.

And it hadn't been so bad.

Moran might have been blustery, but ultimately he'd shown that he trusted me to do my job.

I sat down at my desk, although my eyes stayed on Bobby as he crossed the squad room, heading for his desk.

For a moment, I was wistful, wishing that I was on the case with him.

They thought the councilman might have done it? That was a political hotbed. But if they were both suspicious, then I firmly believed it was a real possibility.

I was pretty sure that this case was going to get worse before it got better.

I tore my gaze away from Bobby and focused back on my work, but then my phone buzzed, indicating another text. I pulled it from my pocket and read the message.

_**Can we meet for lunch?**_

I looked up at Bobby again.

Was he worried that I was upset with him for what had happened?

I guess I had been pretty short with him on the phone, but he was going to have to get used to that when we were at work.

I watched him as he sat hunched over his desk, looking through a stack of papers, but after a moment, he glanced up and caught my eye.

And it didn't matter that he was twenty feet away and on the other side of the glass.

That split second still sent a shot of excitement through me.

And understanding.

He wasn't concerned that I was mad.

He was missing me.

Well, the feeling was mutual. After a decade of being partners, and a year of working and living side by side, the few hours of separation this morning felt strange.

I typed out a response.

_**I'll do my best to get away.**_

I'd love to take a two-hour long lunch and go back to his apartment, but the truth was that this was our first day back.

He had a big case and I had…a ton of work to do.

I continued to watch him as he pulled out his phone and read my text, a half-smile on his face.

But then I saw Logan answer his phone, and the two of them were up from their desks, heading for the elevator.

I wanted to be heading out with Bobby.

I wanted to be poring over the facts of the McIvor boy's life so that we could learn the motive of his killer.

Instead, I was stuck here, behind a desk.

A knock on my office door forced me to tamp down my feelings of jealousy.

"Captain?"

"Come in, Detective Wyatt," I replied.

"Ma'am, we've got an issue with the Gregory case. It looks like our murder might tie into one being investigated by the 6-8, but they won't come off of any information."

"Have a seat and tell me why you think it relates, and then I'll make a call to their captain," I said firmly.

And just like that, my jealousy was gone.

I wasn't involved in a single investigation.

I was in charge of dozens.

This was my job now.

And I was going to be good at it.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Logan and I sat in a diner down the street from 1PP.

About a half an hour ago, I'd gotten a text from Alex which said that she wouldn't be able to make lunch.

_I'll owe you_, she'd said.

As much as I hated not seeing her for lunch, I definitely liked the sound of that.

She always made good on her debts in the most pleasurable of ways.

Logan had gotten the call from Rodgers after we'd brought Alex up to speed, so we'd headed for the morgue.

She had a couple of interesting finds.

"His pocket was partially wrong-side out," she'd told us.

"Partially…what?" Logan asked in confusion.

"Like this, Detective," she'd answered, sticking her hand in Logan's pocket. "If someone else puts their hand in your pocket, and then pulls it out, because of the difference in the angle of entry, sometimes the fabric pulls partially out along with the hand."

"Rodgers if you wanted to feel me up, you could've just said something," Logan joked.

"In your dreams, Detective," she retorted. "I'm just trying to demonstrate my point."

"Okay," I said with a nod. "So someone searched his pockets. Are you sure it wasn't any of your people?"

"No. I checked. The wallet was pulled out for identification purposes and that's it."

"And the pocket was empty?" Logan questioned.

"Uh huh. So either your killer found what he was looking for or…"

"Or our victim didn't have it," I finished.

"Right."

"Good. What else?" I asked.

"The ring finger," she said.

"Yeah, we know. He normally wore a ring."

"He normally wore a cheap ring that left behind trace amounts of oxidized bronze," she corrected.

"So why steal a cheap ring?" Logan posed to me.

"Maybe it didn't look cheap."

"It is hard to tell the difference sometimes," Rodgers agreed. "But since the wallet was left behind…I don't know. Maybe it held some other significance."

"What did the tox report say?" I asked.

"Clean as a whistle. Well, or as clean as a whistle on steroids," she said with a wry smile. "Your boy was definitely trying to buff himself up."

"Needle marks?" Logan asked.

"Nope, so my guess is that he wasn't too serious about it yet. People usually work their way up to needles, and he wasn't there yet."

Rodgers walked over to her desk and picked up a report.

"That was all of the good news," she stated as she handed me the paper.

"What's the bad news?"

"He was sodomized before he was shot."

We'd left the morgue and made a trip to NYU to talk to some of Adam's friends.

No one knew about the steroids.

No one remembered the ring.

No one had seen him since Sunday afternoon.

In fact, we'd talked to half a dozen of the kids in his dorm before anyone even remembered seeing him at all over the weekend.

"He's not exactly the social butterfly that his dad thinks he is," Logan remarked as we sat in the diner, waiting on our lunch order.

"Kids are rarely the people their parents see," I replied. "Especially at that age."

"True," he agreed. "So what next? This kid was barely making a blip in college. I can't picture any of his classmates caring enough about him to kill him. Much less the…"

He trailed off as the waitress brought our sandwiches. She lingered at the table for a moment longer, trying to engage us in small talk.

"So you're cops, huh?" she asked astutely.

"What gave it away, sweetheart?" Logan replied sarcastically. "The suits or the badges?"

"It's that big gun you've got underneath the table," she said coyly. I had just taken a sip of water and I immediately started to choke. She whacked me on the back a couple of times. "Sir, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I managed to say.

"Casey!" the guy from behind the counter yelled. "You've got orders stacking up!"

"I'm coming!" she said loudly and then she lowered her voice and said to Logan, "I'll be back in a few minute to see if there's anything that I can do for you."

Then she flashed him a grin and sashayed away from the table.

"I don't remember the wait staff at this place being so…friendly," he remarked as he watched her walk away.

"Me neither," I agreed.

"You know you could've looked at her," he said. "Eames can't kill you for looking."

"We're not talking about Eames. We're talking about McIvor. Right?"

"Sure thing," he said agreeably. "So anyway…why the sodomy? And the clothes didn't look out of place. The killer must have let him get dressed afterwards."

"Which is strange," I said, picking up on his thread. "Usually sodomy is done to humiliate the victim. So why try to hide it?"

"Because it's personal."

"Okay, even if I agreed with you before that the dad is a suspect, I'm not sure if I still do. The sexual assault changes my opinion."

"Yeah, I know," he agreed in irritation. "Mine, too."

"We need to get his cell phone records and try to retrace his final steps."

"What do you think was in his pocket?"

"I don't know. Maybe it was out of place because he'd pulled his pants up in a hurry."

"No defensive wounds…not much blood…I don't know about you, but if that was me, I'd be fighting like crazy."

"Uh huh," I said thoughtfully. "I want to talk to that restaurant guy again."

"The one who found the body?"

"Yeah. He said he was out on a smoke break, right?"

"That's what he said."

"And he worked last night _and_ this morning. So we need to make him walk us through his night again, too. Maybe he saw something else that he's forgotten."

"Okay, sure," he agreed. "I don't have anything better."

"And let's go back to NYU. We'll talk to his student advisor and his professors."

"And maybe his roommate will be back."

"Exactly."

Casey came back to the table and immediately began chatting up Logan. I pulled out my phone and sent Alex a text.

_**I'm partnered with Don Juan. **_

It only took a minute for her to respond.

_**Tell Don to keep his pants zipped and get back to work.**_

I chuckled at her message and tucked my phone back into my pocket.

"Come on, Logan. We need to go."

"Can you bring us the check sweetheart?"

"Oh, it's on the house," she told him as she pulled out her pad. She wrote down something and then tore off the paper and handed it to him.

"We can't accept that," I said. "We're not allowed to…"

"I won't tell if you don't," she replied, still staring at Logan.

"Sorry," I told her as I pulled out a twenty. "I'm kind of a stickler for the rules."

"Thanks anyway, Casey," Logan told her.

"So…you'll call me?"

We left the diner after Logan tossed out a few vague assurances that he might possibly consider giving her a call.

"So tell me, Goren," Logan began as he got in the car. "Is it my cologne?"

"What?" I replied distractedly. I was trying to run back through the facts as we knew them thus far.

"First Rodgers feels me up. Then the waitress practically throws herself at me…so either it's the cologne or you're the best wingman I've had since college."

"Rodgers wasn't feeling you up," I replied. "She was demonstrating her point."

"Yeah, so she said. But her hand was _right there_. And what about Casey?"

"She's got a daddy complex," I told him. "I'd lose that number if I were you. And we need to find a new place to eat lunch."

"Daddy complex? She wasn't that young."

"She was half your age."

"Which is about the same thing as half your age."

"Uh huh. And I'm not the one who got her number."

"True," he mumbled. "I guess she was kind of young."

He fell silent for a minute and I let my mind wander back to the case.

"Don't you think it's odd that McIvor was so hostile towards you? I mean, that incident was more than fifteen years ago. And all you did was punch the guy."

"I did arrest him for murder," he reminded me.

"But he got off. And he'd already retired his seat by that point, so it's not like you cost him an election or anything."

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm not sure yet. But I'd really like to have another chat with him."

"You heard Eames. If we want to talk to him, we have to come up with motive."

"So let's go track down the roommate first. Maybe Adam opened up to him about what went on in his family."

Two hours later, we finally found him.

Riley Morris, the roommate.

He'd apparently ditched his classes after hearing about Adam's death and now he was three sheets to the wind.

"Are you going to arrest the son of a bitch?" he asked us. He was nearly in tears and he held a mostly-empty bottle of Bacardi in his hand.

"Why don't you let me have the bottle, Riley," Logan said quietly.

"Oh wait. You're going to take _me_ in, right? Because that's what you guys do."

"Why would we take you in?" I asked him.

"Because I'm not exactly twenty-one," he replied sharply.

"Your friend was found dead this morning," Logan said with understanding. "We're not going to bust you for underage drinking."

"Who did you mean when you asked if we were going to make an arrest?" I asked. "Was Adam having trouble with someone?"

"You could say that. His old man was on his ass twenty-four seven."

"That's what dads do," I said.

"Not like this," he answered, shaking his head. "He was so afraid that people would find out. I was like _hello, it's 2011_…but the councilman didn't see it that way."

I caught Logan's eye and he nodded at me.

It suddenly made a little bit more sense.

"Adam was gay," Logan stated.

"Well…yeah. You guys hadn't figured that out yet?"

"We've talked to a dozen people. No one knew."

"You weren't talking to the right people," he replied. "Besides, his old man knows. He's probably throwing a party right about now."

"I doubt it. His son was murdered. I'm sure that no matter their differences, he's still grieving."

"He's grieving? Are you kidding me? He's the bastard who killed him!"

We finished taking Riley's statement and then we left the campus.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Logan asked me as we got into the car.

"Probably. But it's not a good idea."

"Come on, Goren. What would you have done if Eames was still your partner?"

"I would've made the suggestion and she would've talked me out of it."

"So see? This is easier. Because now there's no one here to talk us out of it."

"She specifically said that we needed more information before we approached McIvor."

Because yeah, that was what we needed to do.

We needed to see how he was spending his afternoon. We needed to feel out his mood and question him some more.

And we needed to know if he had an alibi for last night.

"We _have_ more information. Hell, we even have a motive. McIvor's a homophobe with a gay son who was just coming out of the closet and then he suddenly turns up dead. And I don't know about you, but I'm starting to think that the sodomy wasn't part of the crime. I'm going to call Rodgers and ask if there was trauma consistent with it being a forcible attack versus consensual sex."

"You think McIvor caught his kid in the act."

"Maybe. It would explain why he was dressed again. Come on, Goren. How many times have you seen a murder victim fully dressed when sexual assault was part of the crime?"

"I know," I agreed.

"And that's probably why he was so hostile towards me. He shares the views of his uncle and so he thinks of me as the enemy."

"It's possible."

"Well?"

"What about the missing ring?"

"Maybe it was a gift from a lover."

"Which would have given away his secret," I said with a nod. "And there were no defensive wounds because he wouldn't have felt threatened by his father. Or at least not until it was too late."

"Exactly."

"Okay," I said on a sigh. "You call Rodgers and I'll call Eames."

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I called Alex but it went to voice mail.

I tried her again while I halfway listened to Logan talking to Rodgers.

"It _could be_ or it _is_?" I heard Logan say.

"It's Eames," the voice mail said. "Leave me a message."

I didn't want to just leave a message. I wanted her approval for us to go to McIvor's home.

And Logan was right when he'd suggested that in the old days, I wouldn't have cared.

But it wasn't the old days any more.

And I didn't want to land Alex in trouble with the chief.

But I _was_ in the business of solving cases, and in order to do so, this was what I needed to do.

"It's me," I said after the beep. And then since I was still on duty, I added, "Detective Goren."

_As if she wouldn't know_.

I rolled my eyes at my own idiocy and then plowed ahead.

"We found a motive for McIvor, so we're going to his house to talk with him again. We'll be nice. I promise."

I hung up and looked over at Logan.

"Rodgers said that it's possible it was consensual. She couldn't confirm it. She said there was some tearing, but it wasn't extensive and it could've just been rough sex."

"Which was her professional opinion?"

"Consensual. And she apologizes for not considering the possibility sooner. You left a message with the boss?"

"Yeah. You know, he's not going anywhere. We could wait until she calls back."

"Are you kidding me? You want to sit on the lead until the boss gives the go-ahead? How many times did you do that with Ross? Or even Deakins?"

"You think I'm acting differently just because of who she is?"

"I know you are," he fired back. "Don't get me wrong. I like Eames. She's a great person, and I think she's going to be a great boss. Hell, she already stood up for us against Moran."

"But?"

"But we don't need her to hold our hand every step of the way. She's supposed to oversee, not micromanage. Right?"

"Well, that's true."

"And we'll play it by the book. We're detectives. We're going to get an alibi from a potential suspect."

He definitely had a point.

I couldn't go soft just because I was in a relationship with the boss. I still had to do my job.

"Okay, you're right," I agreed. "Let's go."

Thirty minutes later, we pulled up outside of the home of Garrett McIvor.

"Nice crib," Logan remarked as he cut off the engine.

"I didn't realize civil service paid so well," I added.

We got out and went up the walk. Before we got to the front door, it was pulled open from the inside.

"Get the hell off my property."

It was McIvor and he'd obviously been drinking. It seemed to be the trend today.

"We just have a couple of questions for you, sir," I replied.

"I don't have anything to say to either of you."

"We need to know where you were last night," Logan told him.

_Subtle_, I thought.

Although subtle wasn't really a word I would ever use to describe Logan.

"You want to know where _I _was?" he shouted, coming out onto the porch. "Are you accusing me of something?"

"Standard investigative procedure," I assured him. "We have to clear family members first."

"You can shove procedure right up your ass," he retorted. "Get off my property, or I'm calling the police."

"Sir," I said, showing him my badge just as protocol. "I think you know that's not going to help your case. Please…just tell us where you were last night."

"Garrett?"

It was Mrs. McIvor.

She stepped into the doorway and I instantly took pity on her. Her eyes were puffy and red and she was clearly devastated. The outburst by her husband was probably going to put her over the edge.

"Mr. McIvor, please settle down," I said quietly. "We're not here to cause trouble. We just have to ask you a few questions and then we'll leave you two alone."

"Garrett, let them in. They're trying to find Adam's killer."

"No they're not!" he shouted. "If they were, they wouldn't be _here_!"

He reached into his pocket at which point Logan and I both put our hands on our weapons.

"You're going to pull a gun on me?" he asked incredulously with his hand still in his pocket.

"Get your hand out of your pocket, sir."

"I'm calling the police," he stated. He removed his hand, and in it was a cell phone. "This is harassment."

"That's not necessary," I told him.

"Garrett, just tell us where you were," Logan said.

"Oh, it's Garrett now? You're trying to be my friend? Well fuck you, Logan." He put his phone to his ear and then spoke again, "Yes, this is Councilman McIvor and I would like to report that two armed men are trespassing on my property."

"Sir…"

"Yes, that's right," he continued. "One of them pointed his gun at me."

I glanced at Logan, who was just as perplexed as I by this turn of events. Neither of us had pulled our weapons yet, but now he'd be on the 911 recording accusing us of such.

This was going from bad to worse.

"Garrett!" his wife called out again.

"Shut up, Maggie!" he spat out.

The wife shrunk back into the house and closed the door.

"So…are you two going to stand around and wait for the cops? Or are you going to crawl back into your holes?"

"When did you find out that Adam was gay?" Logan asked him, completely ignoring the threat.

McIvor's face turned crimson with anger, but he kept his mouth shut.

"I was just wondering because I know how much you hate homosexuals. I bet it just ate you up to find out that your own son was one of _them_, didn't it?"

"Keep it up, Logan. Ten years on Staten Island? Try instant, disgraceful retirement without a pension."

"For saying the truth?"

"For spreading lies about my son."

"He wasn't ashamed of his lifestyle," I spoke up. "So why are you?"

I wasn't about to leave Logan hanging.

And really, we were here now. The trouble had already started.

How much worse could it get?

Aside from that, this was the best way to get a suspect to come clean, by pushing his buttons. I'd been using this tactic for years.

As the thought crossed my mind, I could feel my phone vibrating in my pocket.

Alex was returning my call.

"You're wrong about him," McIvor said. "He wasn't gay."

"You should tell that to the man he was sleeping with," Logan said.

It was a low blow, but I still had to give Logan points for not being overly crude. I could only imagine that different words had crossed his mind.

But it didn't matter. The gist was still the same, and it still infuriated McIvor. He practically leapt down the two steps that separated him from Logan, and he tackled him, taking him down to the ground.

I went after him, trying to pull him off of Logan, but he fought hard against me, swinging at Logan every chance he got.

I finally had to pull my gun.

"You need to stop right there, Councilman," I stated firmly, loudly clicking off the safety so that he was fully aware of the extent of my seriousness.

"What are you going to do. Shoot me?"

"I don't want to," I told him. "But you need to get off of my partner and step away."

I could hear sirens fast approaching, but I kept my eyes on McIvor as he sat on his knees, straddling Logan's chest, with his forearm against his throat.

"Let him get it out of his system, Goren," Logan managed to say. And I knew what he was thinking.

Now we could take McIvor in for assault.

"Drop your weapon!" I heard an officer shout.

"I'm NYPD!" I yelled back. "Detective Goren, Major Case!"

The next several minutes were a whirlwind of activity as the two officers dispatched by the 911 call were brought up to speed on the situation.

McIvor was put into handcuffs, but instead of putting him in the back of the car, I sat him down on the porch steps. Logan went inside to speak with Mrs. McIvor while I sat next to the councilman. We sent the other cops on their way, assuring them that we had the situation under control.

My phone kept vibrating intermittently in my pocket, but I still couldn't answer it just yet.

And the longer I waited, the angrier she was going to be, but I couldn't just pause in the middle of all of this to answer the phone.

"You attacked my partner," I said calmly. "Again. Tell me why I shouldn't take you in."

"Arrest me. I don't care. It'll be the last thing you do as a member of the NYPD and I'll be out in time for dinner."

"I'm not going to get fired," I asserted, although I wasn't completely sure about that. "We're following procedure. We have to speak to the victim's family."

"Victim," he scoffed under his breath.

His reaction caught me by surprise.

He didn't think that his son was a victim?

Even considering the fact that things pointed towards McIvor, I still hadn't expected it to actually be him.

Or maybe I just didn't want it to be.

Maybe I didn't want to think about fathers who were capable of killing their own sons.

"Sir, please. Just tell me where you were last night and we'll be on our way. There won't be charges against you for the assault. You're a grieving father. It's understandable."

"Don't act like you know me," he said derisively. "You know nothing about me or my family."

"You're right. I don't."

"He was home with his wife," Logan said, suddenly appearing in the doorway. "Or at least that's her story."

"So you're going to call my wife a liar?"

"I'm just wondering why you didn't say that to begin with."

"What difference does it make?"

"It could've saved us a whole lot of trouble."

"You haven't seen trouble yet," he threatened. "Now either arrest me or let me go. I'm done here."

I glanced at Logan and shook my head. There was no point in taking him in for his actions tonight. And since he had an alibi, albeit a weak one, we had to let him go for now.

He nodded his agreement and then bent down to remove the handcuffs.

"I hope it was worth it, Detectives," McIvor said as he got to his feet. "You'll be out of work before you get back to One Police Plaza."

"He might be right," I muttered a few minutes later as we got back into the car.

"We weren't wrong, Goren. And the wife is lying."

"We should've had more proof first."

My phone began to buzz again and I finally pulled it out of my pocket.

I dreaded this conversation.

"Goren," I answered.

"Please tell me that you are not at McIvor's house."

"I'm not."

Because technically, we were now driving _away_ from McIvor's house.

"Goren…"

"We just left," I admitted.

"You couldn't wait for me to call you back?" she yelled. "I specifically said to leave the councilman alone until you had more evidence!"

"We do have more evidence," I replied defensively. "The victim was gay. His dad is homophobic."

"Oh, well, then I hope you arrested him because that obviously means he's guilty of murder, right?"

I sighed and glanced at Logan, feeling simultaneously annoyed with him for having talked me into it and with myself for letting him.

"Not exactly."

"Damn it, Goren, this is really bad."

Yes, it was because she didn't even know about the scuffle…or the 911 call…or that we'd put him in handcuffs…

"Have you completely lost all common sense?" she continued. "Just because I'm not there to rein you in doesn't mean you have to go off half-cocked..."

"Wait a minute," I interrupted. "You think I need you to _rein me in_?"

What the hell did she mean by that? Did she think I couldn't do this job by myself?

I was suddenly furious and I decided that maybe this wasn't a conversation I wanted to have on the phone, especially in front of Logan.

"We'll be back to 1PP in twenty minutes," I bit out.

"Make it fifteen," she fired back, and then she hung up.

"Trouble in paradise?" Logan asked.

"Shut up, Logan."

"Look, Goren…she might be pissed, but we did the right thing."

"Are you sure about that? We're no closer now than we were this afternoon. In fact, we're further away because now our suspect has an alibi."

"So we'll break it. We'll talk to the wife when she's not afraid that hubby is listening. You know it's him."

"I don't know that. We should've been more thorough before we went over there. And we should've waited for the boss to call back."

He was quiet for a few minutes while I silently fumed.

"You…might be right," he said at last. "Maybe I was a little over-zealous."

"And maybe you think that Eames won't chew our asses just because of who she is."

"That too," he agreed. "Shit. We really blew this one, didn't we?"

I wanted to argue the _we_ part, but the fact of the matter was that I'd gone along with it.

I couldn't put all of the blame on Logan.

I could've said no.

But I wanted McIvor, too.

I flashed back to when I'd sat with him on the front porch.

_Victim_, he'd said maliciously.

What did he mean by that?

"Hey, Adam didn't have a computer in his room, did he?" I asked suddenly.

"Um…no."

"Why not? What college kid do you know doesn't have a computer?"

"None," he agreed. "So where is it?"

"Maybe he had it with him. He was out most of the day Sunday. Maybe he was doing homework."

"With the boyfriend?"

"It's possible."

"So does the boyfriend have the computer, or the killer?"

"It could be either."

"The boyfriend could be the killer," he posed, and I appreciated that he was trying to regroup and be open-minded.

But he was wrong.

"No. A gunshot to the forehead isn't a crime of passion. It's too methodical. Too clinical. Maybe if he'd been strangled or stabbed…but not shot. Not like that. That was an execution."

"Okay. We still need to find the boyfriend."

"Let's get Adam's email address from Riley and see if we can pull the emails from the server. Maybe we don't actually need the computer."

"Good idea," he said as he pulled into the parking garage. He found a spot and then cut off the engine. "And it's probably something we should've done before we went to McIvor's."

"Uh huh," I agreed with a nod.

Where was all of this rational thinking three hours ago?

But still, she didn't need to be so condescending. She sounded like Ross now.

Didn't she have any faith in our abilities to get the job done?

Didn't she trust me at all?

"Come on," Logan said. "Let's go face the music."

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**Alex POV**

* * *

It's possible that I was lulled into a false sense of security.

After the incident with Moran was resolved with my dignity intact, and then the subsequent meeting with Bobby and Logan was wrapped up with all of us on the same page, well…I was feeling pretty good about myself.

So it's possible that I underestimated the difficult nature of other aspects of my job. Aspects such as getting along with other department captains.

Detective Wyatt had come to me with a suspicion that his case pertained to a murder that was currently being investigated by the 6-8.

"It's an unusual cause of death, Captain," he told me. "Yuille's printing off the coroner's report now."

In another minute, Wyatt's partner had joined us and then the two of them proceeded to offer me proof as to why the two cases should be investigated together.

"It's not every day you see someone killed by a poisonous frog."

"A Golden Poison Frog," I stated. "Their toxin is powerful enough to kill as many as twenty men."

I glanced up from the report and found both of them staring at me.

"I saw it on the National Geographic Channel," I mumbled vaguely, and then I smirked on the inside for how much I sounded like Bobby.

"So don't you think we should take over that other case? It has to be related, right?"

"I agree," I told them. "I'll call over to their captain and let her know that the two of you will be by to pick up the case file."

"Thank you, ma'am," Yuille said as he followed his partner out of my office. I picked up my phone to make the call.

I didn't know Captain Alonzo personally, but she was the one who Maas had referenced when suggesting to me that I could successfully have a secret relationship.

And maybe that sense of kinship caused me to miscalculate how my call would be received.

"Captain Alonzo," I began. "This is Captain Eames of Major Case."

"Captain Eames," she repeated with obvious disdain. "Yes, I know who you are."

"Good. I wanted to speak with you about..."

"You're the detective who pole-vaulted her way through the ranks in order to snatch up the most sought-after seat in the department."

"I'm sorry…what?" I asked ineloquently, my confusion at her hostility robbing me of proper speech.

"What I want to know is who you had to sleep with to get that job," she continued. "Was it Moran? Maas? Or maybe it was both of them."

I was completely dumbfounded.

For a moment.

And then I found my voice.

"Any time you'd like to check my qualifications, feel free. In the mean time, I'm sending two of my detectives to your precinct to pick up the Longley case file. Major Case is taking over."

"You can't just pick and choose your cases…"

"Yes," I interrupted. "I can."

"Oh that's right. Because you're the high and mighty Major Case. You know, I've been a departmental captain for eight years."

"Don't blame me for your career stalling out. It sounds like something you need to discuss with Moran."

"What, while on my knees? Is that what you did? Come on, Eames. You and I both know that there are much more deserving candidates for that position."

"It's Captain Eames," I corrected.

I could feel my face flooding with color at her continued insults.

Because really, wasn't that my fear? That I wasn't good enough?

And why _had_ Moran given me this job? Certainly not for the reason that she was suggesting, but still…it was a valid question.

"Have that file ready for my detectives," I continued.

"If you want it, then you come and get it yourself."

She slammed down the phone and left me listening to dial tone.

What just happened here?

I was so mad that I couldn't think straight.

Was that the rumor going around the department? That I'd earned this job on my back?

Or was it just because Alonzo had probably applied for it herself, and so she was bitter that she'd been overlooked?

And she was going to play juvenile games with the case file?

That was fine.

I'd go to her house and get that damn file.

I grabbed my coat from the rack and left my office, slamming the door closed behind me.

As I crossed the squad room, Wyatt and Yuille hopped up from their chairs.

"I'll be back in an hour," I told them gruffly.

"Should we go…"

"No. I'll get your case file."

I didn't wait for a response, but instead went to the elevator and jammed the button repeatedly with my finger.

She really thinks I slept with Moran?

I wanted to go to his office.

I wanted to tell him what she'd said. But that would be tattling and I don't do that.

No, I was going to have to handle this on my own.

It took me twenty minutes to get to the 6-8 and I fumed the entire way.

I parked the car and forced myself to take several deep breaths. It wouldn't do me any good to go in there while angry.

I needed to take the high road and be the professional.

I got out of the car and went inside. After checking in with the desk sergeant, I went upstairs and found Alonzo's office.

I knocked because it was the right thing to do, but I did do it quite a bit louder than was necessary.

"Captain Eames," she stated when she opened the door. "I see you came running right over."

She stepped back from the door and went around behind her desk. She waved in the direction of the two hard-backed visitors' chairs, but I stayed on my feet in the middle of the room and surreptitiously gave her the once-over.

She was not an attractive woman.

I suppose it suited her personality.

But it also made me wonder which of her detectives was living with her.

Who would be so desperate?

And then I chastised myself for judging her by her looks.

Although honestly, I wasn't.

She wasn't just physically unattractive. She was a bitch, too.

"Give me the Longley case file," I said simply.

"That's it? That's all you have to say to me?"

Did she think I was going to say please?

Not in this lifetime.

"What were you expecting? You want me to tell you that slander charges are pending?"

"Slander," she repeated with a nod. "Well, that would insinuate that my statements were false. And I don't believe they were. Which is probably why you haven't lodged a complaint yet. Am I right?"

"I'm not sure if you've ever been right in your life. It's no wonder you've been stuck here for eight years."

"You're really going to stand there and insult me?"

"No," I said dismissively. "I'm going to get the file and go back to 1PP."

"Can't wait to get out of the lowly 6-8, is that it?"

"I have a job to do and this isn't part of it."

"A job," she said on a derisive laugh. "I bet you do. You know what? You can have _that_ job. At least I still have my integrity."

"Is that what you call it? Because I have another word for people like you."

"No need to get ugly, Captain," she said, tossing a file folder across her desk. "There's your file. Now run along."

I had the overwhelming urge to jump across her desk and strangle the life right out of her.

In fact, I was really close to doing just that, but I held back.

Instead, I grabbed up the file and in the process, I accidentally swiped a few other files onto the floor.

And knocked over her cup of coffee.

"Sorry," I said glibly with a fake smile. Childish, I know, but it made me feel a little better.

I slammed the door on her foul-mouthed response and then scanned the room on my way back to the stairs.

Which one of these poor idiots was sleeping with her?

None seemed likely candidates, so I pushed that thought from my mind and headed back to the car.

Traffic was insane and it took me almost an hour to get back to 1PP, which meant that in all, nearly two hours had been wasted because she wanted to be difficult.

I tossed the file on Wyatt's desk and said, "If these somehow end up not being related, you're still solving both of them. It's not going back to the 6-8. You got me?"

"Yes, ma'am. Oh, and Captain?"

"What is it?"

"The chief is waiting in your office."

I glanced across the room and sighed heavily when I saw Moran wandering around near my desk.

"How long?" I asked.

"About ten minutes."

"Okay. Thanks."

What now?

I was never going to make lunch with Bobby. I pulled out my phone and sent him a quick text to let him know, and then I went into my office.

"Chief," I greeted with false cheerfulness. "I would've come to your office. You didn't need to come to mine. Again."

"Relax, Eames," he replied. "I'm not trying to spy on you. I just got a phone call. From Captain Alonzo."

_Oh my God._

She'd really called to complain about me?

"And?" I prompted, since I had no idea what she'd decided to say about me.

"She said that you strong-armed a case from her squad. And she mentioned that you needed to learn the fine art of tact and professional courtesy."

I should've killed her when I had the chance.

"Sir, I apologize if my actions were misconstrued, but I can assure you that I followed proper procedure to go about moving their case to this department."

"You have strong reason to believe the two are related?"

"Both victims were killed by dart-frog poison."

"Well, that does sound logical…"

"And Chief, I asked nicely," I added, biting my tongue to keep from saying more.

"I'm sure you did," he replied with a nod. "Alonzo's been gunning for this job since Deakins left. But you know what? She's not qualified. She lets her personal life get in the way."

I nearly choked at his declaration.

What would he do to me if he ever found out about me and Bobby?

"Her personal life?"

"She's always taking sick days…bringing her kids to the office…leaving early…she's hanging onto her current post, but barely."

"I had no idea," I replied, relieved that he hadn't mentioned her live-in boyfriend.

"And I probably shouldn't be sharing that kind of information with you, but I wanted you to know because it seems like maybe she's got a hard-on for you. She's a little bitter that you were offered this spot. If she gives you a hard time, then I need to know about it."

"Yes, sir."

"So…do you want to tell me why you went to the 6-8 instead of sending your detectives?"

"Um…no sir."

I just couldn't do it. As much as I hated the woman already, I wasn't going to rat her out just because she'd treated me badly. Now let her break a law and I'd be all over her in a second, but I couldn't be seen as the kind of person who went running to the boss every time someone said a cross word.

"Okay. If you're sure. So how is the councilman case coming? Have you heard from Logan and Goren?"

"Not recently. But they're working on finding motive, and they promised to stay away from McIvor until they can uncover evidence that might point to him. I expect them to be checking in shortly."

"Good. I'll let you get back to work. Come up to my office at two o'clock. The commissioner wants to meet with you."

"With me? Why?"

"He likes to put a face with a name. And you're the new face of Major Case, so it stands to reason that he wants to meet you in person."

"Okay then. Two o'clock."

He left my office and my phone started buzzing.

Bobby.

_**I'm partnered with Don Juan. **_

His text went a long way towards lightening my foul mood. I could easily picture Logan as a shameless flirt.

Of course, Bobby was fairly flirtatious, too. I had no doubt that any female suspect they might encounter would be toast.

I typed out a reply and then got back to work.

By ten minutes before two, I felt like I'd been put through the wringer.

I'd stopped a fight between two detectives.

I'd put in a call to the Archdiocese about forcing the principle at a local Catholic school to give us access to a student's locker.

I received three calls about new cases, and yet I had no available detectives to assign.

And the sprinkler system had gone off.

All since noon.

I hadn't heard from Bobby yet, but I had to get to the chief's office, so I stopped by the ladies' room to attempt to repair the damage done by the unexpected shower, and then I went upstairs.

My phone rang as I approached Moran's office, but I couldn't answer it because his door was open and he'd already spotted me.

"Captain Eames! Come on in!"

I reached in my pocket and silenced my phone.

Two hours later, I was back on the elevator.

The meeting had gone well, and the commissioner was a nice man, but I had some serious work to do and now I was even further behind.

I was never going to make dinner with my father.

Not only that, but I'd really been looking forward to unwinding tonight with Bobby.

Not that he wouldn't wait for me because he would.

I knew that whatever time I got home, he'd be there.

But I didn't want to wait.

I pulled out my phone and saw that I had a message. For some reason, that little flashing light gave me an ominous feeling.

Maybe because I knew it was from Bobby, and I'd just staked my reputation on the fact that this case was being handled properly.

"_How do you think your former partner is dealing with the fact that now you're his boss?"_ the commissioner had asked me congenially.

"_Oh, it's fine. In fact, he encouraged me to accept the position."_

"_Really? That's commendable. Sometimes it's tough to go from colleague to subordinate. I'm glad to hear that Detective Goren is a big enough man to deal with such a change."_

"_He and Detective Logan are still working the councilman case, sir," _Moran spoke up_. _

He hadn't told him that?

I did an internal eye roll as the commissioner turned his gaze to me.

"_You kept them on it?"_

"_Yes, sir. This morning was just a misunderstanding. They're handling this one by the book."_

"_You trust them to follow your orders?"_

"_Absolutely."_

I listened to Bobby's message as I went into my office.

"_It's me. Detective Goren."_

I smirked at his halting speech, but then I braced myself for what I knew was coming.

"_We found a motive for McIvor, so we're going to his house to talk with him again. We'll be nice. I promise."_

I hung up the phone and stood there for a moment, just to breathe.

I'd all but ordered them to stay away from McIvor and yet they went anyway.

This was the respect I got?

Did they even respect me at all?

I knew he'd tried to call, but there was no reason in the world why he didn't wait for me to call him back. It's not like McIvor was trying to flee the country.

And what kind of evidence? He didn't even mention that.

_They'll be nice_.

Yeah, I believed that.

I dialed his number and waited impatiently while it went to voice mail.

What had they gotten themselves into?

And what was Moran going to say when he found out that I couldn't control them?

Maybe Alonzo was right. Maybe I didn't deserve this job.

If I couldn't even keep the man who supposedly loved me from going rogue then how was I supposed to manage everyone else?

I continued to call his phone until he finally answered.

"Please tell me that you are not at McIvor's house," I said, doing my best to keep my cool.

"I'm not."

He was lying. I knew he was lying, and he sounded sheepish. Something bad had happened.

"Goren…"

"We just left."

"You couldn't wait for me to call you back?" I yelled. "I specifically said to leave the councilman alone until you had more evidence!"

He argued that they had evidence, but it was lame. The fact that McIvor was anti-gay didn't mean that he'd killed his son.

How could we even prove that McIvor _knew_ his son was gay?

"Damn it, Goren, this is really bad."

I glanced through my windows as I said the words, and as if to punctuate my statement, the fire sprinklers went off again.

Detectives began scrambling from their desks, grabbing up papers in an attempt to salvage their work.

This was my day. What had I done to deserve this?

And it had started off so well. Mostly.

But now this…

"Have you completely lost all common sense?" I asked him. "Just because I'm not there to rein you in doesn't mean you have to go off half-cocked..."

"Wait a minute. You think I need you to _rein me in_?"

He thought I _didn't_?

And honestly, I couldn't remember the last time I was this mad at him.

Certainly not at any point in the past year.

What was going to happen if the commissioner got involved with this?

I'd already had to fire Bobby once, and that had been devastating even though it had only been for show.

I couldn't do it again.

Not ever.

I couldn't let him get himself into that kind of trouble.

"We'll be back to 1PP in twenty minutes," he told me and at that moment, I saw Moran get off the elevator.

He opened an umbrella and headed for my office.

"Make it fifteen."

I hung up and met Moran at the door.

"What's going on with this sprinkler system?" I asked him, pretending as though my extreme frustration was with that instead of where it actually was – with Bobby and Logan.

"I'll find out about that, if you tell me what the hell's going on with your detectives. McIvor had to call 9-1-1? Eames, I thought we had an understanding about this case."

"We do," I agreed quickly.

"It doesn't look like it. I'm starting to wonder if maybe I made a mistake bringing Logan back. Maybe I needed to find Goren someone a little more level-headed."

And I know it was something similar to what I'd just said to Bobby but the fact that someone else was saying it really pissed me off.

"Look, Chief. I appreciate that you want to keep an eye on me. I know I'm new to this job. But you need to let me handle things my way. I can't have my detectives watching you come down here every five minutes as though you have to lead me by the hand in order for me to get through the day. I need to be able to commend and reprimand my detectives as I see fit without being constantly scrutinized. And what I really need is a little bit of space and trust so that I can do my job!"

I didn't start out yelling, but that was where I ended up.

And it was very possible that I'd just committed career suicide.

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Logan and I were quiet as we rode up to the eleventh floor.

I don't know what was going through his mind, but I felt like I had a tennis match going on in my brain.

I was furious with Alex for not trusting me.

But I was mad at myself for pushing the envelope on this case.

I couldn't believe she'd suggested that I couldn't do this job without her to watch over me.

And yet I was afraid for her, for what Moran might do.

Not only that, but my emotions were too entangled for me to make sense of them.

How much of this was personal?

And how much was professional?

Would we be in this same boat if she and I weren't together?

The short answer was yes.

She'd directed Logan and me to wait.

We didn't.

That part was cut and dried.

But there were extenuating circumstances. We'd used our judgment, judgment that she should trust, in order to make a game-time decision.

Was that anything different than what she and I would've done?

We got off the elevator and headed for her office.

"What the hell happened in here?" Logan asked as we looked around the squad room. It looked like there'd been a hurricane inside.

Before I could respond, Moran came out of her office.

He was red in the face, likely from anger, and this time there were no encouraging words to her on his way out the door. And he didn't even glance at either me or Logan.

He just brushed past us and made a beeline for the elevator.

"Shit rolls down hill," Logan muttered to me. "Are you ready for this?"

"Do I have a choice?"

I looked at Alex through the windows of her office. I didn't think that she'd seen us yet. She was just sitting at her desk, not doing anything. Or at least that's how it looked. She was probably rehashing her conversation with Moran in her mind.

How much trouble was she in because of us?

The one thing I'd wanted to be sure of was that I didn't cause trouble for her with Moran.

This was day one and I'd already landed her in the doghouse.

I knocked lightly on her door and watched as she lifted her eyes to meet mine. I wanted to gauge her mood, to get that brief feeling of a connection before the beating commenced, but that didn't happen.

Well, the connection part anyway. I _did_ gauge her mood.

The word livid comes to mind.

She waved us in without saying a word and together we entered her office and stood in front of her desk.

She stared at us for a moment, and then got up from her chair and put her hands on her desk.

"I'm trying to decide where to start," she said quietly.

"Look, boss, I know that we probably shouldn't have…"

"Probably shouldn't have?" she interrupted. "Definitely shouldn't have."

"Okay, so we shouldn't have gone over there without checking with you first," Logan admitted. "It was my idea."

"We both agreed," I said. I couldn't let him take all of the heat for it, even though he had been the one to suggest it. I know how to say no.

"You both agreed to do exactly what I told you not to do," she stated. "And McIvor had to call 911? Do I want to know what happened? Or should I wait until you're both put under arrest by officers with jurisdiction?"

"We went to get his alibi," I said firmly. Because I was starting to get mad again. She was treating us like a couple of kids. "He was drunk and he accused us of trespassing. And then he attacked Logan, so I had to pull my gun."

"He attacked you?" she asked, turning to Logan. She looked him over carefully, surely taking note of his dirty suit and the redness on the side of his face. McIvor had caught him with one glancing blow. Probably not enough to bruise, but it was surely still a little sore.

"Yes, ma'am," he answered. "And he only called 911 because he didn't want to answer our questions."

"Did you get the information out of him?"

"His wife is providing his alibi," I said. "But she's lying. We're going to….we'd _like_ to talk to her again tomorrow, hopefully away from her husband."

She sat down in her chair and let out a heavy sigh. I noticed now that her hair was damp. And she was wearing a different blouse than she'd worn to start the day. Then I remembered the condition of the squad room and my mood softened slightly as I thought about what kind of day she must have had.

"All I asked was that you come to me first," she began, and then she trailed off. "You know what? Let's do this tomorrow. Go home, Logan."

"Um…if you're going to chew my ass, I'd really rather you go ahead and do it."

"If I'm going to chew your ass, I'll do it on my schedule," she countered. "Go home."

"Okay, boss."

"My office. Eight a.m."

Logan headed for the door, but I stood firm. He put his hand on the knob and looked back at Alex.

"Eames…I'm sorry," he said. "I thought we were doing the right thing."

"I know. I'll see you tomorrow."

Logan gave me a sympathetic look and then left.

"Do you want me to go home, too?" I asked her.

She got up from her chair and walked around her desk and then sat on the front edge of it.

"No."

"But?"

"I don't even know where to start."

Maybe she didn't, but I did.

Because out of all of this, the one thing I kept coming back to was her comment on the phone.

"How about you start by telling me exactly when you quit trusting me."

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

His statement caught me by surprise.

"When did I stop trusting you? How about when did you stop respecting me?"

"What? You know I respect you."

"I mean as your boss," I clarified. "I knew this was going to be hard, but you promised me that you were okay with it. In fact, you made me promise you that I'd take this job. And now you're acting like…I don't know what. Like you have the keys to the store just because we're sleeping together."

"Sleeping together. Is that what we're doing?"

"Isn't it?"

"That really cuts it down to the basics, don't you think?"

"Wait, we need to handle one aspect of this at a time. Professional first. I told you and Logan not to approach McIvor and you went behind my back and did it anyway! If you won't follow my rules, then how can I expect anyone else to?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean you, the man who supposedly loves me. If you…"

"Supposedly?" he shouted. "You're questioning _that_ now?"

"I'm questioning everything right now! Damn it, Bobby, you're with Logan for one day and already you're more committed to him than you are to me. I thought…"

"I thought we were discussing professional first," he interrupted.

And he was so mad that I suddenly wished I hadn't moved around to the front of my desk. I thought maybe having that large piece of wood between us would be a better idea.

But as it was, I continued to sit as he loomed over me.

"You're right," I conceded. "So why did you go to McIvor's?"

"You said for us to get more evidence first. We did. I thought that you trusted my ability to do this job enough to not have to check in with you every five minutes. I mean, is that how it's going to be? Just because you're not with me, I'm not allowed to make any kind of decision on my own, or to use my judgment in how best to handle an investigation?"

As he said the words, they sounded eerily familiar.

Probably because I'd just said something very similar to Moran only minutes ago.

I was doing the same thing to them that Moran was doing to me.

And why?

Just because I was afraid of getting heat from Moran?

I couldn't work like that.

I needed to let them do their job while I did mine and if trouble arose then so be it. I'd deal with it, just like I'd dealt with Moran today.

And yeah, he was angry with me now, but surely it wouldn't be the last time. He and I had two different objectives. His was PR. Mine was case-solving.

I'd had to establish the fact that I needed room to work.

_Just like Bobby and Logan needed room to work_.

And I _did_ trust them to do their jobs. They were both excellent detectives, the best in the department.

So why was I trying to keep them on a leash?

Probably for reasons that _weren't_ so professional.

And definitely because I didn't know how to handle the fact that I was getting left behind.

"You're right," I said quietly.

"About which part?" he fired back.

"I need to let you and Logan conduct your investigation without interfering. Because I _do_ trust you."

"Except that you don't trust that I love you. And you don't trust that I put you first, over everyone, even my partner. You can't quantify the word trust, Alex. You either do or you don't."

I didn't correct him for calling me Alex in this office. And it was impossible to think that we could separate professional from personal. Not right now, anyway. It was too intertwined.

"I…just feel like…I don't know what I'm doing."

"Of course you do," he insisted immediately.

"No, Bobby. I don't. I'm on an island here, while you're out playing with your new partner. You and I….we've been together for more than a decade and now suddenly we're not together. I'm not Eames of GorenandEames anymore. I'm just…Eames. And now you're GorenandLogan. And maybe that doesn't make any sense to you, I don't know. Maybe this transition has been perfectly smooth for you, but it's not for me. I'm suddenly trying to work through everyone's problems for them and Moran's been on my ass, and I was accused of sleeping my way to the top, and then the sprinkler system, and the Archdiocese, and…"

I made myself stop because I realized that I was near tears.

What in the hell was wrong with me?

I'd brought him in here to reprimand him for disobeying an order and now I was nearly crying about my day.

Was it any wonder that I doubted my ability?

"Wait, just…forget all of that," I said quickly. "The McIvor case. You and Logan work the case and do what you need to do and catch the killer. If you step on toes, then it's my job to smooth things over. Are we clear?"

He gave me a slow nod, but I could feel his eyes looking straight inside of me. He had to know how close I was to a breakdown.

"So we're back to being professional," he stated. And yeah, he was still ticked.

"We're sitting in my office with the blinds open and your partner went home ten minutes ago. Yeah, we need to be professional."

"Then I'll be quick about what I need to say so that I can get out of your hair," he replied sharply. "We are not sleeping together. That statement implies that that's all there is and it couldn't be further from the truth. I love you, unequivocally, more than I ever thought possible. If nothing else is constant in your life, _that_ is. That will absolutely never change. As for respect, if I have to spell that out for you, too, then I'm doing something wrong. I've been your biggest fan for ten years and I didn't stop just because you became the boss. It only made me even more proud of you. In fact, I'm in awe of you because you can do all of those things you just mentioned. You handled Moran. You dealt with me and Logan. The sprinklers. The Archdiocese. Whatever. You handle it all because that's the kind of person you are. As for sleeping your way to the top, I don't know who suggested that, but if you'll give me a hint, I'll go kick his ass. And the idea that my first loyalty is to Logan instead of you…"

He paused then and his gaze softened. I could tell that he wanted to touch me, but he didn't. Instead he finished his thought.

"You come first with me. Always, in everything. And you doubting that means that you doubt me and my feelings for you."

A knock on my door interrupted any response I may have been able to formulate. Although maybe the interruption was a good thing because I wasn't sure what to say.

He was right. I hadn't given him enough credit.

"Captain Eames?" Wyatt said, sticking his head in the door.

"What is it?"

"We've got another dart-frog poisoning."

"Are you kidding me? Who kills with a frog?" I asked rhetorically.

"It happened over in Brooklyn again. You want me and Yuille to go pick it up?"

"Head on over there now. I'll give their captain a heads-up."

"It's in the 6-8," he clarified as he cautiously glanced back and forth between Bobby and me.

I closed my eyes and exhaled a frustrated breath.

"That's fine. Go on. I'll make sure Alonzo knows to hand it off."

"Yes, ma'am."

Wyatt closed the door, leaving us alone again.

"I'll let you get back to work," Bobby said quietly.

He didn't really seem angry any more. Maybe just disappointed.

"Bobby, wait…I…wow, this is so much harder than I thought it would be."

"Being with me?"

"No," I answered quickly. "Being in this office. Not working with you."

"I thought you'd enjoy the break," he replied with a hint of a tease.

"I don't," I said honestly. "I miss working with you. And I feel so…inept trying to do this job that I was trying to do yours for you."

"And you were doubting me."

"I…was, yes. And you've never given me any reason to doubt you. I'm sorry. It wasn't actually you I was unsure of. It's me. I had one crisis after another today and…"

"And you handled them all," he said.

"Not well."

"Good enough. And you'll get better. This was the first day."

"It was a hell of a first day," I elaborated. "You just wouldn't believe…"

"So how about you tell me all about it?" he suggested, his voice lowering to a suggestive pitch. "As soon as we get home."

"I'd like that very much. Let me make this phone call and I'll be done for today."

"I'll meet you in the car."

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**Logan POV**

* * *

I left 1PP and went straight to Pete's.

Lennie had turned me on to this place back in 1993.

It was a hole in the wall, with a microscopic hand-printed sign out front and low-burning bulbs inside.

It was a place to get lost.

He'd also said that it was perfect because it wasn't too far from the office, but it was far enough that there was little risk of running into fellow detectives.

It was closer to 1PP than it was to the 2-7, but not by much. I thought I'd still be safe.

Because right now, I didn't want to see anyone I knew.

I'd taken the reprimand from Eames because I deserved it. In fact, I deserved more than what she'd given.

I'd abused our friendship by shooting from the hip instead of respecting her authority.

The irony was that I _did_ respect her.

I respected the hell out of her.

I'd just let the thrill of the hunt get the better of me.

I'd convinced myself that we were doing the right thing by running headlong into a firestorm, but we weren't.

I was wrong about that.

But I was still right about McIvor.

I was right and yet he was still free, so that burned me up even more.

And because we'd jumped the gun, now McIvor knew we were looking at him.

This morning could've easily been written off as miscommunication. But this afternoon…that had been a disaster.

"Jack and Coke," I told the waitress after I sat down at a table in the back corner.

I didn't want anyone to attempt to strike up a conversation with me.

I wasn't in the mood to be affable and I'd more than likely either end up in a fight or sleeping with someone I didn't know.

The former was almost preferable than the latter.

Both would work off my frustration, but at least if I got in a fight, I wouldn't be expected to make small talk when it was over.

And I could go home without feeling guilty.

"Can I bring you a menu?" the waitress asked when she brought my drink to the table.

"I think it's going to be a liquid dinner tonight, sweetheart," I told her. "Just keep these coming."

"That's probably not a good idea."

It took me a minute to register the fact that the words hadn't come from the waitress. I looked up from the table and saw Dr. Rodgers.

"Of all the gin joints…" I began ruefully.

"I can find another place to drown my sorrows if you'd rather be alone."

"You've got sorrows?"

"One or two. But really…I don't want to intrude. I just thought I'd say hi."

"You come here often?" I asked, and then I rolled my eyes at how ridiculous that sounded. "I didn't mean that as a line…I just…I didn't think too many people knew about this place."

"Lennie brought me here a couple of times," she admitted.

I'd forgotten that the two of them had dated briefly back in the old days.

"Then pull up a chair. We'll drink to Lennie," I said.

So she sat down across from me, exhaling a heavy sigh as she did so. She flagged the waitress down and ordered a double bourbon, straight up.

"So you had a bad day, too," I stated after she placed her order.

"You could say that."

"Hey, feel free to unload. It'll take my mind off my own troubles."

"Well, let's see. I missed the possibility of consensual sex on the McIvor kid. One of my techs contaminated a DNA sample pulled from a murder scene on a different case. And then this afternoon, I had to testify in court and…it did _not_ go well."

"You're usually solid as a rock on the stand. What happened?"

"The defense attorney was slimier than usual. He presented all kinds of alternate theories to my stated cause of death and then asked me to confirm whether or not his suggestions were plausible. And of course, they were possible. Just like it's possible for an elephant to walk down Park Avenue, but it's pretty damn unlikely."

"Sounds like you must have made him sound bad then."

"No. I got so annoyed with him that I came across as hostile and then he suggested that my irritation was due to the fact that I realized I could be wrong and…oh, you know what? I think I need to let it go. I'm getting mad just talking about it."

The waitress brought Rodgers' drink to the table, so she picked it up and killed half of it.

"Your turn," she said. "First day back was worse than you expected?"

"It's possible that I was a little too excited to get back to work," I admitted. "I sort of threw the rule book out the window."

"And how did the new boss like that?"

"Not much," I said. "I have an eight o'clock meeting in her office. I'd probably better enjoy the fact that I have an ass tonight because after that meeting, there won't be much left."

Rodgers barked out a laugh and shook her head at me.

"Eames might be tough, but she's fair. She won't rake you over the coals too much. And if she wanted to wait until tomorrow, it's probably so that she could be sure to do the right thing. You have to keep in mind that this is new for her."

"Yeah, I know. The whole captain thing has got to be different."

"No, I mean not working with Goren. They've been together for ten years."

And of course, I knew that but I hadn't really looked at it that way.

And now they were _together_ together and I'd undoubtedly been the cause of a rift between them.

Goren was probably going to be sleeping on the couch tonight because of me.

Why did I have to be so short-sighted with this investigation? He tried to talk me out of it and I'd practically accused him of being whipped.

_Nice, Mike. Use peer pressure on your own partner. _

"That's true," I said. "I'm sure it's hard for her to not be involved."

Which would explain why she'd wanted to keep such a close watch on us. Not because we couldn't do the job. But because she didn't know how _not_ to do the job.

"You guys will find your rhythm. It just figures that you had to get such a high-profile case right from the start."

"Well, that comes with the territory at Major Case."

We were both quiet for a few minutes and I thought it was going to get awkward.

I mean, I've known Rodgers forever, but not really on a personal level. Although Lennie had spoken highly of her. It had turned out that the two of them were much better as friends than anything romantic, but he'd thought the world of her.

"So tell me where you've been for the past two years," she said after the waitress brought us another round.

So I did.

I told her about North Carolina and then how I'd come back to New York and run into Goren and Eames.

Of course, I left out the part about them using my spare bedroom on a regular basis.

And doing so…keeping their secret…almost made me feel a little bit better about myself.

I was trustworthy.

And I could do the right thing.

I'd just gotten overly excited today…

"Moran called you out of the blue?" she asked me.

"Well, I helped out Goren and Eames on a shady meet one night, and we ended up taking some gunfire, so they had to crash at my place that night because they weren't sure if they'd been made and…well, Moran came by to make sure they were okay. He asked me what I was up to and when I mentioned that I was still looking for work, I guess it stuck in the back of his mind. A few weeks ago, he called and asked me if I'd be interested. He said there were still a few wrinkles to iron out, but he wanted to make sure that the interest was there."

"Their whole operation was pretty dangerous, wasn't it?"

"Very," I agreed. "But they were dedicated."

"I guess so. They essentially gave up a year of their lives."

"I don't think that's how they see it."

"No, they probably don't," she said.

"How have you been doing with all of this?" I asked her quietly.

"You mean with Danny's death?"

"I know you two were close."

"We were. I mean, we weren't in a relationship any more, but it was still really hard. For a long time, it was hard. And I know in your line of work, that kind of thing is always a possibility, but…I don't know. I guess you always think it won't happen to someone you know. Someone you care about."

We continued to drink and talk until I was aware of the fact that I'd finally completely relaxed.

Rodgers was good company. Or rather Liz, as she'd insisted.

And it was no surprise that she had a sharp wit. I'd been laughing at her one-liners for years, but tonight, she really had me going.

By the time I paid the check, it was nearly midnight and my prediction of having a liquid dinner had come true.

I was slightly unsteady as I followed Liz out the front door and onto the sidewalk.

Out of habit more than anything, I found myself checking her out as she walked in front of me.

I mentally chastised myself for thinking of her that way, but it took me another few seconds to pull my eyes back up to where they belonged.

Fortunately, I did so just in time. I looked up right as she turned around.

"You didn't drive, did you?" she asked me. She only slurred her words a little bit.

I had to admit it. The woman could hold her liquor.

"No. Did you?"

"My place is just around the corner."

"I'll walk you," I offered.

It was cold outside, but I wasn't going to send her on her way, alone and intoxicated.

Besides, I could just as easily get a cab from in front of her building as I could from in front of Pete's.

And honestly, I'd enjoyed her company so much that I wasn't ready to go back home to my empty apartment.

So we walked around the corner and down the block until she stopped in front of an old red brick townhouse.

"This is me," she said.

"It's _very_ close," I said. "Something tells me that Lennie isn't the one who introduced you to Pete's."

"I never said he was. Merely that he and I had gone there on occasion."

"True enough," I conceded and then I nodded in the direction of her house. "Nice place. I guess doctors make the big bucks, huh?"

"Hardly," she scoffed with a smile. "Hey, thanks for tonight. I…spend a lot of time alone, and sometimes it's nice to have someone to talk to. Someone who understands what I do. I mean, my job is not exactly something most people want to hear about and yet it's where I spend most of my time, so…well, you understand."

"I do," I agreed with a nod. "I'm kind of the opposite, although with the same end result. Too many women are simply interested _because_ I'm a cop. It's tough to weed out the ones who're just interested in me. And you…well, you know way too many cops to have that be a factor."

"That's true," she agreed. "And don't worry about Eames. You guys will work everything out. You're all too good at what you do for it not to work."

"Yeah, I know. It's just that I hope I didn't ruin…"

I stopped myself before I said too much. Even halfway to drunk, I wasn't going to rat out their relationship.

"Ruin what?"

"Oh, just…you know. We're friends. I don't want her to think we can't still be friends just because she's the boss. I have to prove to her that I won't take advantage of that, and I didn't do a very good job of that today."

"You'll get it," she said encouragingly. "You're a good guy, Logan."

"Thanks. Not very many people would agree with you, I'm afraid. In fact, right now you're probably the only one who thinks that."

"Don't sell yourself short," she replied.

We were still standing on the sidewalk in front of her home. I'm not sure why I hadn't turned to hail a cab yet.

Of course, she hadn't turned to go inside yet, either.

Instead, she stared at me for another minute and then said, "You want to come in and get some coffee before you go home?"

Now sometimes, coffee is just coffee.

And sometimes it isn't.

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

**Alex POV**

* * *

I watched Bobby leave my office and then I went around my desk and picked up the phone.

The last thing in the world I felt like doing was dealing with Alonzo, but it had to be done.

And then I could go home with Bobby and see if I could go about repairing some of the damage that my self-doubt had caused.

I knew that I'd hurt him with my callous remark.

And it had been unfounded.

Of course I trusted him, so why in the world had I said otherwise?

And I'd called into question whether or not he loved me?

I closed my eyes and shook my head, now utterly annoyed with myself.

I'd come completely unglued today.

I'd regained some ground in my last meeting with Moran.

_Meeting_.

Ha.

If you could call him yelling, me yelling louder, and then him throwing down an ultimatum before storming out a meeting_._

He'd told me that I could do things my way. He wasn't going to keep checking in with me.

He wanted a weekly report, but other than that, I was on my own.

And then he'd mentioned that he was giving me plenty of rope with which I could easily hang myself.

I guess our honeymoon was over.

But he wasn't the one I was worried about.

Bobby had still been simmering when he left and I had to make things right with him.

But first things first.

I had to deal with Alonzo before I could leave.

"Captain Alonzo," she answered.

"This is Captain Eames with Major Case," I began. And yeah, I knew that she knew I was with Major Case, but I couldn't resist saying it just to piss her off. "Two of my detectives are on their way to your precinct to pick up the case file on the latest frog murder."

"Frog murder. How clever. Is that what you're calling it?"

"I'll call it anything I damn well please, since it's in my department. Have that file ready."

"Or what?" she challenged.

"Don't hand it over and find out."

"You think I'm scared of you?"

"No, I don't think you're smart enough to be scared of me," I retorted.

"Are you actually threatening me?"

"I'm just laying out the facts. You think I slept with Moran to get this job? Fine. I must be pretty good at it, to land a job like this, so what do you think he'll say if I ask him to get rid of you?"

"He can't do that without cause," she stammered lamely.

"You're squabbling with another captain about jurisdiction and you're playing petty, time-consuming games. I'd say that's cause. Now get off your ass and go find that case file. My detectives should be there in about fifteen minutes."

I didn't give her a chance to respond.

Instead, I just hung up feeling tremendously gratified.

I pulled out my cell phone and sent a text to Yuille, telling him to let me know if she gave them any trouble, and then I grabbed my coat and left the office.

On the ride down, I remembered my dad, so I sent him a text letting him know that dinner was going to have to be postponed.

I wanted Bobby alone tonight. Of course, I didn't say that.

But I did suggest that we do dinner on Saturday instead. I figured that would give us all time to settle into our new roles.

I got off the elevator in the parking garage and admittedly, I was fairly distracted.

My pleasure at knocking Alonzo down a peg was overshadowed by the fact that I still needed to make things right with Bobby and I kept rehashing our conversation in my mind.

I glanced across the garage, trying to remember exactly where I'd parked, when I heard a noise from behind me.

I whirled around, dropping my coat as I simultaneously reached for my gun.

"It's me," Bobby said quickly. He was about five feet away, having come out of the shadows near the stairwell.

"I could've shot you! What the hell are you doing back there?" I asked.

"Waiting for you."

"You said you were going to wait in the car."

"I changed my mind," he told me casually, reaching out to take hold of my arm. "Come here."

I left my coat on the ground and went with him into the darkness where he quickly pulled me into his arms.

"I've been wanting to do this all day," he said softly. "I didn't want to wait until we got home."

I relaxed against him, breathing in his scent. It was amazing how quickly the day washed away.

"I'm still mad at you," he said, although he didn't release me.

"I know. And I'm a little bit mad at you. But not as much as I was earlier."

"We need to talk about this some more."

"Uh huh."

"And I want to hear all about your day."

"Okay."

"But first, there's something else I have to do," he whispered.

He moved one hand under my chin and tipped my head up towards his before bringing his lips down to mine.

In that first second, I was ready to resist, needing to tell him that it was too risky to be doing this here. But after the first second, I was completely lost.

It was a crushing kiss, full of anger and passion, frustration and intensity. I stepped into him, wanting more and needing to take control, but he turned us around so that my back was against the wall and he kept kissing me until I couldn't think about anything but the feel of his lips on mine, and the touch of his hands in my hair. I have no idea how long it went on, but at some point, he finally pulled away.

"I've been wanting to do that all day, too," he said, and I was glad to see that he sounded as breathless as I felt.

"Let's go home," I said. "And do more of that."

My whole body was vibrating with need and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to concentrate on the road.

"Are you sure you want to?" he asked.

And yeah, I deserved that.

I grabbed onto the front of his pants and pulled him flush against me, going up on my toes so that I could kiss him again.

This time he let me take the lead and I did my best to infuse all of my emotion into that kiss.

I had a feeling that tonight, words weren't going to be enough.

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

The drive home was interminable.

We didn't talk because there was too much to be said.

I didn't touch her because I wanted to touch her too much.

So instead, we were each quiet on our respective sides of the car.

She found a parking spot outside of my building and together we went inside and up to the fourth floor.

I was secretly pleased that there hadn't seemed to be any question as to whether or not she was coming to my place.

She hadn't been to her place overnight in a very long time, but I'd been a little concerned that our fight might prompt her to seek out some personal space.

But I really didn't want that. Not at all.

Despite the fact that I was frustrated with her, I still _wanted_ her.

And of course I still loved her. That wasn't about to change.

But I wasn't sure how many ways I could say it to get her to believe me.

All this time, I'd always thought that _I_ was the insecure one in our relationship.

Of course, she'd had a lot thrown at her today. And I hadn't been very supportive.

I could've done more to ease the transition.

I unlocked the apartment door and let her go inside of ahead of me, and then I locked up behind us.

"There were a lot of ways that I imagined today might go," she began as she tossed her things onto the table. "But I never thought it would go like it did."

"I'm sorry that it was such a disappointment," I said carefully, not sure exactly where she was heading.

"_It_ wasn't a disappointment," she said as she brought her eyes to mine. "_I_ was the disappointment. Do you know how close I came to having a breakdown in my office?"

"Yes. You think you're the first one to feel that way?"

"That's not even the worst of it," she said. She was standing in the foyer, almost as though she was afraid to move any further into the apartment.

I waited for her to keep talking, but she dropped her eyes to the floor as though she was searching there for the right words.

"Alex," I began, taking a step closer to her. "Talk to me."

She met my gaze again and this time her eyes were shiny.

"After everything we've been through…all the time that it took for us to get here…and I almost blew it in one day."

"You didn't blow anything," I said as I reached for her. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close.

"I didn't doubt you," she said adamantly. "I know that I made you feel that way, but it was me. I watched you going off, doing what we always used to do together, and I thought that maybe I'd made a mistake by taking the job. And then everything kept going wrong, and I was _sure_ I'd made a mistake."

"You forgot one important thing," I told her.

"What's that?"

"We're partners," I said softly, still keeping her firmly in my embrace. "Whether the NYPD calls us that or not, that's what we are. And yes, it made me mad when you chastised me about our decision. But not because I can't handle you being my boss. I got mad because you didn't consider the fact that maybe I had a good reason. You didn't trust me."

"Bobby, I _do_ trust you."

"And then you had to call in to question whether or not I love you," I continued. I pulled back from her and cast her an admonishing look.

"I know," she said, closing her eyes. "I know, I know…"

"Hey," I said, encouraging her to look at me. "You are going to be the best captain that Major Case has ever had. I know that for a fact."

"I don't know how you can say that."

"Because I know you," I insisted. "And I love you. So when your self-esteem needs a little boost, I'll be there for you. Never, ever doubt that I will always be there. Like I said, you and I…we're partners."

"So what's Logan?" she asked, with the beginning of a smile.

"He's like a mother-in-law who just won't go away," I joked. "He's involved whether we like it or not."

"Bobby," she said, shaking her head. "He's your work partner. And he's a friend. I'm not going to slight you that relationship. But I will admit to being a little jealous."

"I promise not to invite him into our bed. How about that?"

"That's a start," she said on a laugh. Then she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm so sorry about today."

"It wasn't just you. It was both of us. But tomorrow will be better, I promise. This is going to work."

I moved my hands up into her hair and kissed her again like I had in the parking garage. Except this time, there was no concern about being spotted, so I held on for another moment, and then I slid my hands back down and untucked her shirt so that I could feel beneath the fabric.

"This isn't the blouse you put on this morning," I murmured as I moved my lips around to her ear.

"Sprinkler system," she answered.

"Oh, that's right. It went off in the squad room?"

"Twice."

I couldn't stop the chuckle that rolled through me at the accompanying image her words provided.

"The Archdiocese?"

"My religion, or lack thereof, was called into question," she said, letting her head fall back so that I could focus my attention on her throat. "All I wanted was for him to order the principal to open a locker and instead I got a lesson in catechisms. And of course, I had to be nice because apparently that's my job now."

"Did you get what you wanted?"

"Well…yeah," she admitted, and I think it was finally hitting her that maybe the day hadn't been as much of a disaster as she thought. I mean, sure there were things that had gone wrong, but she was far from inept.

"And you have a man killing frogs?" I questioned teasingly as I brought my hands around to unbutton her shirt.

"He doesn't kill frogs," she said, and now she was laughing with me. "He kills _with_ frogs."

"Oh, the Golden Poison Frog. You know their toxin can kill up to twenty men."

My remark sent her into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, and I wasn't sure what brought it on, but I couldn't resist laughing with her.

After the day we'd had, it was a welcome sound.

"Hey Alex," I whispered as I pulled her blouse from her arms.

"Yeah?"

I let my eyes wander over her bare skin for a moment and then I picked her up in a grand, sweeping motion and carried her into the living room.

"I want to make love to the boss."

Originally, I'd planned to use a different word to describe my intent. I'd thought about having her against the door, or bending her over the table.

But that would have to wait until tomorrow.

Tonight, we both needed affirmation of what we had together, and of how much we meant to one another rather than the physical act itself.

"Are you sure? I hear your boss is a real bitch."

"She's not. She just forgot how wonderful she is, so maybe she needs reminding."

"It won't get you a promotion," she replied coyly. "Well, unless you're really good."

I was glad to see that she was maintaining a good attitude about the rumor of how she got her job.

She and I both knew it was ridiculous.

And of course, at a more opportune time, I was going to ask her more details so that I could go to the source and make sure nothing more was said about that. Ever.

But for now, I kept things light because we'd both had enough heavy for the day.

"It's based on performance?" I asked her.

"Uh huh.

"Good. I'll be chief by the end of the night."

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

**Logan POV**

* * *

I followed Liz up to her front door and waited while she searched for her keys.

It took her longer than it probably should have, and I thought that maybe she was more intoxicated than I originally suspected.

"Sorry," she said when she finally produced the keys. "I usually keep them in my pocket, but since I had to be in court and…well, I had to dress like_ this_, I decided to carry a purse and once something goes into the purse, it's a miracle if it's ever seen again."

I chuckled at her ramblings, although I did take another minute to look her over since she'd commented on her outfit.

I was used to seeing her in scrubs and she was also known to wear jeans from time to time.

However, tonight she was in wine-colored slacks with a matching blazer and an off-white silk blouse. Her hair was blonde these days, and longer than I'd seen her keep it in the past, but it was a good look for her.

And of course, I'd noticed her appearance earlier, when she first sat down at my table in the bar, but maybe I hadn't given it the appropriate attention.

"You look nice," I said. My compliment caused her to pause in her attempt to unlock the door and she looked at me skeptically.

"Don't start blowing smoke up my ass now, Detective," she said smartly.

"I would never dream of blowing smoke up your ass, Doc."

She finally got the door open and we went inside. I was curious about her, so I couldn't help but give the place a quick once-over.

"It's hard to turn off the detective, isn't it?" she joked as she headed for the kitchen. "Are you looking for evidence of something?"

"Sorry. No, I just…"

"I'm teasing," she deflected. "Feel free to look around. I'll get the coffee started."

"Oh, so you're really going to fix coffee," I said with a smirk as I followed her into the kitchen.

She stopped in her tracks and turned back to look at me curiously.

"Well…yeah. What did you think?"

"Never mind," I replied, shaking my head.

I had my answer.

Tonight, coffee was coffee.

And that was fine.

I've known Liz forever. If it _wasn't_ just coffee, it might be a little weird.

"Wait, you thought that I invited you in for something else?"

"I…wasn't sure," I admitted.

"And you still wanted to come?"

I raised an eyebrow at her and bit my tongue to keep from saying the words that popped into my head.

She laughed anyway, apparently able to read my mind.

"You know what I mean," she said.

"Yeah, I do," I agreed. "And yes."

I hadn't planned to push the issue. Hell, I hadn't even planned on telling her that I'd been unsure of her intent.

But for some reason, the more I stood there and looked at her and the longer she stared back at me, the less interest I had in drinking coffee.

"You're drunk," she stated, and her tone was almost challenging.

"So are you."

"Slightly, maybe."

"Me, too. Just slightly, I mean."

I held my breath as she stared at me for a moment longer and then she turned back to her cabinet and pulled out the coffee grounds.

I exhaled slowly and went over to stand next to her at the counter.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have said anything. I just…I had a good time talking to you tonight. And the idea of going home alone…"

"Not something you do very often?" she asked as she filled the pot with water and then poured it into the coffee maker.

"Something I do entirely too often," I countered. "As pathetic as it sounds, my only friends right now are Goren and Eames and they're…well, they're…busy a lot. So I hope I didn't offend you by making the suggestion, because…"

"Offend me?" she questioned. She pushed the coffee maker back against the wall and then turned to look at me. "How would that be offensive?"

"I don't know. To suggest that you'd be interested…" I trailed off and shook my head. "Anyway, I'm sorry. Maybe we can meet again at Pete's some time."

I pushed away from the counter and headed for the foyer to get my coat.

"You're leaving? What about the coffee?"

She sounded disappointed and I didn't want that, so I stopped and turned back towards her.

"Yeah, sure. I just thought that maybe you'd want me to leave."

"You think too much," she said as she moved closer to me. Then she surprised the hell out of me by grabbing onto the front of my shirt and pulling me to her. "I set the timer on the coffee maker for six o'clock. We'll have it in the morning."

And so we did.

It probably should have felt strange, sitting at her kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee as though I belonged there, but it didn't.

And I don't normally make a habit out of spending the night with women, but this was different.

She was different.

And I don't mean love, because I don't think that either one of us was kidding ourselves about that notion.

But we had a lot of fun.

And I liked her as a person, not just as a means to an end.

At no point during the night had it occurred to me to go home.

After we'd finished the first time, I'd settled back comfortably against the pillows while she reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

Now, I'm not a smoker.

And honestly, I've never seen her smoke either.

But we both lit up in bed and I suddenly realized why the act was such a post-orgasmic cliché.

Because it was actually quite gratifying.

So we did it again after the second go-round.

"You're supposed to know better," I teased after taking a deep drag off the cigarette.

"Than to have casual sex with a colleague?" she asked.

"Than to smoke," I corrected. "It's bad for your health."

"Ah, but you forget that I've seen first hand how many other ways there are to die. Having one after sex isn't going to kill me," she said. "Although I have to admit, that doesn't usually equate to more than one a night," she added with a grin.

Her subtle compliment was a tremendous boost to my ego, which in turn prompted round three.

"Do I need to run out and by another pack?" she joked after we'd finished and she shook out two more cigarettes.

"How many more are in there?"

"Four."

"I think we'll be alright," I told her, although I was going to do my best to at least use up two more of them. "Although maybe you should get some more for next time."

I said the words without much thought, but as she held out the lighter for me, she caught my eye.

"Next time?"

"Oh, I didn't mean that I thought…"

"Next time, you bring them," she interrupted. "I don't make _that_ much money."

I barked out a laugh and said, "I think I can swing a pack of smokes."

We managed to get a little bit of sleep, but not much. Although, I was out cold when the alarm went off.

I woke up, slightly disoriented at first, but then I remembered exactly where I was.

I'd slept with Dr. Rodgers.

I can't say it was something I'd ever given more than a passing thought to, but now that I had…well, I was going to have to do it again.

I'd stop on the way to work and buy a whole damn carton of cigarettes.

"Are you wishing you could avoid the morning-after awkwardness?" she asked quietly. "Or are you simply regretting the whole thing entirely?"

She'd cut off the alarm, but neither of us had made a move to get up. I was laying with my back to her, so I quickly rolled over to face her.

"I'm not regretting a thing. Are you?"

"No."

"And it doesn't have to be awkward."

"Good. I'd hate to think that you wouldn't want to come back to my morgue after this."

"I think I'm going to be praying for more dead bodies," I replied. "No wait, that's probably not a very nice thing to say, is it?"

She laughed at my joke and then kissed me firmly before patting me on the cheek and getting up from the bed.

"I'm going to take a shower. If you want, I can drop you by your place on my way to work so that you can get a change of clothes. You know it won't take Goren five seconds to notice if you go to work wearing the same suit."

"Good point. Yeah, that sounds like a great idea."

"Of course," she called out over her shoulder. "That doesn't mean you can't shower here."

Which is how I ended up smoking another cigarette while drinking my morning coffee.

I was dressed in yesterday's suit and Liz was in her scrubs.

And for some reason, I couldn't seem to wipe the smile off of my face.

It was still there a half an hour later when she dropped me off in front of my building.

I hesitated before getting out of the car, not sure of the protocol in this unusual situation.

"You're thinking too much again," Liz said, sensing my dilemma. "I have no expectations of a courtship."

"Courtship?" I repeated, amused by her choice of words.

"Okay, so that's an antiquated term. All I'm saying is that I'm okay with what happened. If it happens again, I'll probably be okay with that, too. And if it doesn't, well…no hard feelings. I'm not the clingy type, and I work a lot of hours, just like you."

"Probably?" I asked, unable to resist questioning her use of that particular adverb.

"You're wondering if I enjoyed myself," she stated. "Really? You have to ask?"

"I didn't think so, but then you said _probably_…"

"I haven't had such a pleasurable night in a very, _very _long time," she said.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and then leaned over and kissed her. It was quick and chaste, but for some reason I was unable to resist the urge to do it.

"I'm sure I'll run into you later," I told her, and then I opened up the door and got out.

"Hey, Logan," she called to me just as I was getting ready to close the door. I held it open and leaned back into the car.

"Yeah?"

"You tell Eames to leave your ass alone. It is much too fine for her to be messing with."

I laughed at her unexpected remark and then closed the door and went into my building.

I didn't have time to do much more than change clothes, but that was really all that needed to be done, so twenty minutes after I'd arrived, I was back out on the street.

Now that I was heading to 1PP, I focused back on real life. The past twelve hours had been…surreal and exciting and…completely unpredicted, but it had been such a nice break from reality.

It was probably going to be strange running into her in a work situation, but I was actually anxious to find out. I wanted to see her in that setting.

I wanted to see if we could pull off the same little ruse that Goren and Eames did.

There was something especially enticing about a clandestine affair and since it seemed that she and I were on the same page as far as expectations, I thought we could have a lot of fun.

But first I had a meeting to attend.

In Eames' office.

I wondered again if Goren had slept on the couch last night.

At the last second, I had the thought to stop at a bakery and snag some breakfast.

Not for me.

For Eames.

It wouldn't hurt to try to schmooze her just a little. And I was planning to apologize again, so a little gift wouldn't hurt.

I arrived on the eleventh floor at seven-fifty. Goren was at his desk and Eames was in her office with the door closed.

"Should I be scared?" I asked him quietly as I took off my jacket.

He looked me over carefully but his face remained impassive.

He had this way about him, this habit of studying a person so closely that it was unnerving. I felt like he knew immediately exactly what I'd spent my night doing.

Not that I cared.

It wasn't like he'd be able to see _who_ I'd been doing it with, but still…

"You weren't scared yesterday," he replied evenly.

He was keeping his cards hidden and I could appreciate that. Even if he and Eames had discussed it, which surely they had, it wasn't his place to tell me about it.

"I got carried away yesterday," I corrected. "I'm going to apologize to her for that. And to you. I haven't completely forgotten how this job is done, but it's possible that I had a momentary lapse."

"Detective Logan," Eames called out.

I continued to hold Goren's gaze for a moment longer to make sure that we were good and then I turned and grabbed the pastry bag from my desk and headed for her office.

"You're in trouble so you brought me a doughnut?" she questioned.

"I'm your friend, so I brought you a doughnut. Since I'm in trouble, maybe I'll get on my knees when I hand it to you."

She stood there, expressionless, and looked down at the floor and then back at me.

"Seriously?" I asked. "You want me to get on my knees?"

I mean, I'd do it, but I was surprised by the idea that she wanted me to.

She finally cracked a small smile and shook her head.

"No, for God's sake don't get on your knees. There's enough gossip going on around this place without adding that visual."

"Okay…"

"Okay, so here's the deal. Yesterday, you were wrong to do what you did."

"I know, Captain. And really, I'm…"

"I'm not finished. You were wrong, but so was I. I'm going to chalk it up to first-day miscommunication and we're going to move forward from here, okay?"

"Okay," I answered cautiously.

"So…clean slate," she stated, and then she went back to the door and opened it. "Detective Goren, can you come in here please?"

Goren joined us and she went to the front edge of her desk and sat down.

"From now on, you two are going to conduct your investigations as you see fit. I don't need continuous reports, but let's try for once a day. And I need a text if you're going to be interviewing someone of importance. Not for permission, but just so that I'll know what's going on."

"Yes ma'am," I agreed quickly as relief flooded through me.

"That way," she continued with a smirk. "When the chief calls to complain, I'll have some idea of what he's yelling about."

"And we'll try not to get ahead of ourselves," Goren added. "Right, Logan?"

"Absolutely."

"Good. I'm glad we got that out of the way. So you two are going to talk to the wife today, right?"

"That's right," Goren said. "We need to break the alibi. And we're going to get Adam's email address and see what we can pull from the server. We need to find out who this boyfriend is."

"If it is a boyfriend," Eames pointed out. "Just because he had consensual sex doesn't mean he was in a relationship."

"Good point," I said, unable to keep from flashing back to my night last night. I certainly couldn't put a label of relationship on that, but damn…we'd definitely had lots of consensual sex. "We need to quiz Riley some more to find out if Adam was in the habit of hooking up casually or if he knew about any hint of a particular guy."

"What about the coroner's report?" Eames asked. "Did Rodgers find any DNA on the body? If the victim had sex recently, then surely there would be some evidence of the lover left behind."

"Uh huh," Goren agreed. "Okay, we'll go by the morgue, and then back to NYU, and then we'll find Maggie McIvor."

Eames got up from her desk, which was our cue to leave. I went on out ahead of Goren to give them a few seconds to share a look or a moment of telepathy.

They were too professional to do it in front of me, but that didn't mean they wouldn't do it behind my back if I gave them the opportunity.

I grabbed my coat from my desk and waited for Goren at the elevator.

"So I guess you didn't have to sleep on the couch," I said quietly when he arrived.

"No. And I won't ask where you slept last night."

"What?" I nearly shouted, his remark taking me completely by surprise.

"You've got a…"

He trailed off, but pointed his finger in the direction of my neck.

"Oh," I said vaguely as I shifted my collar in hopes of hiding the mark. "Yeah, um…don't ask."

Great.

And now we were going to the morgue.

If Liz had a hickey on her, too, then we were going to be busted.

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

**Bobby POV**

* * *

"When did you start smoking?" I asked Logan as we rode down in the elevator.

"What?"

I looked over at him and was surprised to see him sniffing himself. Which meant that he'd heard my question and was instead stalling for time.

I didn't repeat myself, but rather just waited for him to formulate whatever fabrication he was going to offer.

"I don't smoke," he said. "When did you turn into a bloodhound?"

I raised my eyebrow at him, but remained silent. Surely he recognized the contradictory nature of his words.

"It was cram-packed on the subway this morning and I was jammed up against some guy who'd been smoking like a freight train," he said at last. "I guess I picked up his scent."

"Oh," I replied, not believing him for a second. He had my curiosity piqued as to why he would bother to lie about something like that, but I let it go for the time being. "I wonder if Rodgers will be able to find us any trace evidence on the anonymous lover."

"It might not do us much good, unless it's someone in the system," he remarked, seemingly relieved by the fact that I'd dropped my line of questioning.

"True," I agreed. "Although if she does find something, then after we get a name on the lover, the DNA will let us confirm it."

"You mean if it's someone who wants to deny it?"

"Uh huh," I said. "It could be someone who's still in the closet."

"I'm not sure that this angle is going to get us very far. We both agree that it's not a crime of passion."

"Yeah, but I'd still like to talk to the guy. If Adam had trouble with his father, then maybe he shared his feelings with the lover."

Thirty minutes later, we discovered that talking to the lover was not going to happen.

Not without a Ouija board.

"I was just getting ready to call you," Rodgers said amicably when we walked into the morgue.

And she seemed so uncharacteristically cheerful, that it got my hopes up.

But her news was incongruous with her tone.

"I've got a John Doe that matches up to the DNA found on your vic," she stated.

"Come on, Doc," Logan said. "You're supposed to be on our side."

"Sorry, boys. I don't make the evidence. I just find it. After I realized that I did a shoddy job on this guy yesterday, I started again first thing this morning, going over him with a fine-toothed comb. I scraped skin cells, did another pass under the nails, and checked for hairs. I pulled specimens from two different individuals. One matched up to the John Doe in my freezer."

"The lover?" Logan guessed.

"Considering what I found, I'd have to say yes. I told you yesterday that there was no semen, and I thought I'd checked thoroughly for any other evidence, but I missed a hair. In my defense, it's the same color as the victim's, but still…I hope you'll forgive the oversight."

"So it was a…"

"Uh huh. And when I ran the DNA through the system, imagine my surprise when I got a hit from someone already in the morgue. The John Doe came in yesterday morning."

"Which means it's actually good that you missed it the first time around," Logan remarked in her defense. "Otherwise you would've run the hair before the guy was in the system."

"I suppose," she agreed reluctantly.

"We're going to need the full report on the J.D.," I told her. She walked over to a nearby table and picked up a folder.

"I already printed everything out," she said.

Logan reached for it, but she opened it up to point something out, so he looked at it over her shoulder.

"The time of death is approximately nine o'clock Sunday evening," she stated. "Only an hour or two before McIvor."

"COD?" I asked from my position near the exam table.

I couldn't seem to take my eyes off of Adam McIvor's body. I kept waiting for him to somehow speak to me.

Could his father really have done this to him? Was the councilman _that_ homophobic?

"Manual strangulation," Rodgers answered. She closed up the file and handed it to Logan and then moved back to where I was standing.

"You said that there were two different specimens," Logan questioned as he walked around to stand across from us. "What about the second one?"

"The other is as yet unidentified."

"So it could be our killer," he said, bringing his eyes to mine.

"Or, it could be his roommate or a relative or someone he bumped into in line at Starbucks. It was saliva."

Logan raised his eyebrows at her and she smiled and shook her head.

"Not that like that. It was on his neck, and it was just a trace amount. He could've been sneezed on."

"Or spit on," Logan suggested.

"There should've been a lot more if that was the case."

"Unless he wiped it off," I said. "And just missed a little bit. Did you check his clothing?"

"You mean did he swipe his sleeve over it?" she asked with a nod. "I'll check with the lab. If they haven't done it, I'll make sure that they do."

"Okay," Logan said. "Thanks, Doc."

"Any time."

We left the autopsy suite, but were only halfway down the hall when Logan stopped suddenly, patting down his suit pocket.

"Give me a minute," he said, handing me the file. "I left my pen back there."

"In the autopsy suite?" I asked. "You didn't have your pen out."

"I know I had it when I got here," he argued. "And now I don't. I'll be right back."

I watched him curiously as he trotted down the hall and went through the doors, but then I shook my head and opened up the file.

So the lover was dead.

The naked body of our John Doe had been discovered face-down in the mud in Riverside Park.

This definitely put an interesting spin on things.

Strangulation was more a crime of passion.

Had Adam killed him?

And then someone got revenge on him?

Or had the same person killed both victims?

But if it was the same killer, then why two different methods? Especially considering the short time span.

And why waste the time and energy to strangle someone if you had a gun?

_And_ there was no bruising on Adam. No effort had been made to strangle him, just the single gunshot wound.

Did that mean that the John Doe was actually the target, and maybe Adam had just been witness to something he shouldn't have been?

If that was true then we were going to have to go back to square one.

And we definitely needed to learn his identity. I hoped like hell that Riley would be able to shed some light on things for us.

"Okay, I'm ready," Logan said as he trotted down the hall to catch up with me.

"Did you find it?" I asked him.

"Find what?"

"Your pen."

"Oh. Yeah. Um…no. I must have lost it somewhere else."

"What's going on with you today?" I asked him.

"What do you mean?"

"You seem off."

"Nothing. I just didn't get much sleep last night. I was worrying about the meeting with Eames this morning."

"That's it?"

"Yeah."

"So we're good?" I checked.

"Yeah, sure," he said confidently. "Let's go talk to Riley."

I shared my thoughts with him about the latest development as he drove us over to NYU.

"We'll need to call up to the 2-4 and take over their case."

"I'm sure they'll be sad to see that one go," he remarked. "A John Doe in the park? They'll probably hand-deliver the file."

I also sent a text to Alex to let her know that we had another body and that we'd be taking over another precinct's case.

She replied fairly quickly.

_**I'll call ahead. You can pick it up after NYU**_.

She was probably glad to get to deal with another captain, other than the woman at the 6-8.

Captain Alonzo.

Actually, I would've preferred if our case had ended up in the 6-8. I would love to go meet that woman face to face. Although, it sounded as though Alex had handled it nicely.

"What do you think, Goren? Do we want to take Riley in or talk to him here?"

"You think he's hiding something?"

"No," he answered after a moment of thought. "No, I think he was honest with us. Let's see how it goes and if he starts clamming up, we'll haul him in."

We found Riley in the library. It took us more than an hour to track him down.

"He's not alone," Logan mumbled as we walked toward a back table on the second floor.

Riley and another guy were sitting close, very close, and seemed to be studying each other more so than the books that were opened in front of them.

"How's it going, Riley?" Logan greeted.

"Look, I told you guys everything I know already."

"We thought maybe you might remember something else today," Logan told him. "You know, since you're sober."

"You're coming here to bust my balls?" he asked belligerently.

"No, Riley. We just wanted to ask you a couple more questions," I said, eyeing the friend who was glaring at us. "Alone."

"This is Eric," Riley said. "Anything you have to say to me, you can say it in front of him."

"Okay," I agreed. "Eric, did you know Adam McIvor?"

"Yeah, I mean, I spent a lot of time at Riley's and Adam was there, so…yeah."

"We need to know about the boyfriend."

"What boyfriend?"

"Come on, Riley. We know that Adam was seeing someone."

"No, he wasn't. Not that I know of anyway. From what I could tell, he was seeing _lots _of someones. He hadn't been out for very long, and I guess he was trying to pick a type."

"So who was his type lately?"

"Um…it's probably been a couple of weeks, but...Trevor Myer…Bailey Reynolds…Mo Easley…"

Riley trailed off and looked at Eric, who then picked up the thread.

"Brayden Kershaw…Tyler Barnes…"

"Okay, we get it," Logan said. "So he got around."

"But it was all good," Eric said. "I mean, he didn't spout any lines, you know what I'm saying? They were just hook-ups and as long as both people know it going into it then there's no harm done."

"Any of those guys you mentioned have blonde hair?" I asked him. I had the picture of the John Doe in the file, but I wasn't ready to pull it out just yet.

"Trevor," Riley said. "And Brayden."

"Have you seen either of them today?"

"Look, I'm telling you. Neither of them could've killed Adam," Riley insisted.

"We're not saying that's what happened," Logan said, glancing at me and giving me a nod. I pulled out the morgue photo and put it on the table, face down.

"I'm going to show you a picture," I warned them. "I need to know if you recognize the man in the photo, okay?"

Neither of them recognized the photo.

I'd hoped that we would be able to ID our John Doe, but apparently that wasn't going to happen yet.

We did manage to get two email addresses that Adam used, so we'd hopefully be able to pull his correspondence from the server.

"Guess which one his parents knew about," Logan joked when we got back in the car.

One email was an AOL account using the name _adammcivor_.

The other was gmail. That name was _onesexmachine_.

"I can't believe anyone would actually use an email address like that," I remarked. "I've always been of the belief that if you have to say it…"

"Then it's probably not true," he finished.

"Exactly. Okay, so the 2-4?"

"Let's do it."

The trip to the other precinct caused my blood pressure to sky rocket. Although it started out decent enough, it went downhill fairly quickly.

"Is this all you've got?" Logan asked the detective who handed off the file.

"My partner's getting the crime scene photos from the conference room. But yeah, otherwise this is it. You know, we just got it yesterday," he stated.

"Yeah, but still…"

"No ID, his prints aren't in the system, no distinguishing marks, no witnesses, no personal affects. You want to tell me what I should've done differently?"

"No," I said quickly, not wanting to make waves. "This is great."

"Thank you," he replied, his mood changing when he realized that we weren't criticizing him. "So it ties into a Major Case?"

"Uh huh," I agreed. Logan's phone started to buzz, so he stepped away for a moment while I made nice with the detective.

"Hey, so how's Yuille doing?" he asked me.

"Yuille? Um…I don't really know. Yesterday was my first day back, and he wasn't there when I left last year."

"Oh, that's right. You're the guy who went undercover in the FBI, aren't you? I thought your name sounded familiar. With the new captain over there, right?"

"That's right. Captain Eames."

"Yeah," he said with a grin. "Hey, do me a favor and send her the next time you need a file, would you?"

"You want me to send my captain to pick up a file? It doesn't exactly work like that."

I was trying to convince myself that he wasn't actually saying what it sounded like he was saying.

It wasn't working.

"Yeah, but we're all brothers, right? I mean, come on. Yuille said that she is one fine-looking piece."

I took a step closer to him as anger flooded through me.

"A _piece_? You're going to talk about a police captain like that?"

"Hey, I don't mean any disrespect."

"You don't mean…how is that not disrespectful?" I shouted.

I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Logan was hustling towards me, but I ignored him and took another step toward the detective.

"Goren, relax," the detective continued. "I was just wondering if she was as hot as Yuille said."

"What's going on here, guys?" Logan asked.

"Goren's getting his panties in a bunch because I was asking about that firecracker Major Case captain," the detective said.

"You're talking about Eames?" Logan fired back.

"Yeah," the detective said with a laugh, obviously not realizing how close he was to death. "Yuille said he'd like to handcuff her to the…"

I couldn't stop myself.

I grabbed onto the front of his shirt and rammed him up against the concrete stanchion.

"You need to stop talking," I bit out. "Right now, or I'll file charges of harassment against you on her behalf."

"Jeez, Goren," he sputtered. "I didn't mean anything…"

"Hey!" another detective called out as he ran towards us. Logan, who had been standing back while I had my moment, stepped up to intercept the approaching partner.

"Your partner here was insulting our captain," Logan told him.

"Arnie, what the hell?"

"I was just repeating what Yuille said," the detective responded. I was still holding him firmly against the column, and no one else in the room seemed interested in what was going on.

"Well, there's your mistake," the partner scoffed. "I'll apologize for my idiot partner. He used to work with Yuille in the 6-8, but they both got transferred out last month."

"You pulled the 2-4 and Yuille landed in Major Case?" Logan asked as I finally relaxed my grip.

My mind was piecing together a larger scenario than just this one.

Yuille used to work for the 6-8?

The place with the captain who was giving Alex such a hard time?

Interesting coincidence, especially now that I learned Yuille was talking about Alex like that.

Just wait until I ran into him again.

I stepped back from the detective and gave him a little shove in the direction of his desk.

"Here are the crime scene photos," the partner said, handing them to Logan. "Good luck with the case."

Which was his way of telling us that it was time for us to leave.

And that was fine.

I didn't want to look at that other guy for another second.

"Are you okay?" Logan asked me once we were back to the car.

"Did I over-react?"

"No. Hell no. I wanted to plant the guy myself."

"You know, the 6-8 captain has been riding Eames," I told him. "And now we find out that Yuille's been talking about her behind her back and he's from the 6-8."

"What do you want to do about it?" he asked me. "Whatever it is, I'm in."

Despite my anger, I couldn't help but smirk at his enthusiasm.

"I'm not sure yet," I admitted. I leaned back in the seat and focused on breathing for a minute to settle myself down.

"We can break into his house this weekend and..."

"No," I said, and now I was laughing. Only Logan would suggest a B & E to get back at somebody. "But that reminds me, Alex's dad wants you to come to dinner with us Saturday night."

"Her dad?"

"Well, I mean, we want you, too. But he specifically asked for you to join us. He's excited that you're my partner. You know, because of your legend status."

"Legend," he said, shaking his head. "The Crossley thing?"

"Johnny Eames likes a man who puts justice over politics," I said.

"Then I think I'm going to like Johnny Eames," he replied. "Okay, sure. I'll be there."

"Why don't you bring a date?" I suggested. "Maybe the girl from last night?"

"No," he said quickly, and I was glad to see that he didn't deny that there had been a girl last night.

"Why not?"

"Dating isn't exactly what we do," he said carefully.

"Oh."

"Yeah," he said with a grin.

He started to say more, but then my phone rang.

It was Alex.

"Guess who just walked into the squad room," she said when I answered.

She sounded in too good of a mood for it to be bad news.

"Do I get a hint?"

"Maggie McIvor," she told me. "She's in a conference room drinking coffee as we speak."

"She came to us?" I repeated, catching Logan's eye. I gave him a nod and couldn't stop the slow smile. "So she's ready to talk."

"Maybe. I don't know. Either that, or she wants to blast you two for scrapping with her husband yesterday. Where are you?"

"We just left the 2-4. Can you tell her we'll be there in twenty minutes?"

"Sure, but I can't keep an eye on her. I have to help Yuille and Wyatt with an interrogation."

"Yuille," I ground out without much thought. Just the name pissed me off.

"Yeah, what about him?"

"I just learned something interesting about him today. I'll fill you in when I see you."

I wanted to tell her to not be alone with him.

To not bend over anything when he was in the vicinity.

To button her shirt up to her throat.

But those would be boyfriend things to say.

"Something bad?"

"Something you need to know. Thanks for the heads-up on Maggie. We'll be there as soon as we can."

"Bobby," she said quietly.

And I read her mind perfectly.

_I love you._

She must have sensed that I was in a mood about something.

"Yeah, I know. Me, too."

TBC...


	11. Chapter 11

**Alex POV**

* * *

"So, Captain. What can I do for you?"

"You're off to a good start," I answered, unable to keep from smiling.

I was stretched across the bed, wearing nothing at all, and Bobby was on his knees on the bed, near my feet.

He was lightly running his fingers along my legs, gradually moving higher and higher.

"I just want to make sure that I'm doing a good job," he stated.

I let my eyes fall closed as he reached the vicinity of my upper thighs.

"You are definitely doing an excellent job," I said on a sigh. "In fact, you know how we made you chief the other night? Now I'm thinking maybe you should be the commissioner."

"Mmm…" he hummed. "I like the sound of that. I'd make a great commissioner. My first act would be to make you co-commissioner."

"You don't want me to work under you?" I teased.

"I love the way you work under me," he answered as he shifted positions so that he was between my legs. He put a hand down on either side of me and pressed his lips against my stomach. "Although I've enjoyed working under you as well."

"The first week did go okay, didn't it?" I mused while he continued to place kisses in random locations. I kept my eyes closed, enjoying the pleasure of never knowing where he was going to kiss next.

It was Saturday morning.

Actually, it was probably almost lunch time, but we hadn't yet gotten out of bed. It felt good to be lazy for a little while, especially after working so hard all week.

And despite our difficult start on Monday, the week had definitely gotten better.

Tuesday had been almost the complete opposite of Monday.

Wyatt and Yuille were making headway on the frog murders.

On Tuesday afternoon, they'd brought in a man whom they suspected of supplying the killer with the frogs. After watching them dance around the facts for nearly an hour, I decided that it was time to help them out. We left the man alone for almost thirty minutes, just to sweat him for a bit, and then I went into the interrogation room.

"Golden Poison Frogs," I stated. "You get them from the coastal region of Columbia, right?"

"You guys keep talking about frogs. I don't know nothing about frogs."

"Your passport shows several trips to Columbia over the past month. I'm betting you brought them home with you, right? Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you smuggle frogs into the country?" I asked pointedly, although I was really having a hard time maintaining my serious countenance.

This had to be one of the most ridiculous interrogations I'd ever conducted.

I had to remind myself that the smuggled frogs had caused three deaths so far.

"Which ones did you bring?" I continued. "Mint green? Yellow? Orange?"

"You seem to know a lot about frogs," he replied with a smirk. "Maybe you're the frog smuggler."

"I know a lot about frogs," I agreed with a nod. "And let me tell you what else I know. I know you're going to tell us all about your part in this little adventure."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Because when I talk to the DA about filing charges of smuggling, I can either tell him to add three counts of accessory to murder...or not. It's up to you."

"You can't charge me with anything. And smuggling frogs ain't no crime."

"Actually, yes. It is. It's a felony, and you can get up to ten years for each instance."

"Just because I put a frog in my pocket?" he asked incredulously.

"You put a poison frog in your pocket?"

"Well, yeah. But I didn't touch him or anything. I mean, how stupid would that be?"

"Pretty stupid," I agreed. "So how did you do it?"

"I put it in a bag and then put that in my pocket."

"How many?"

"I could only do two at a time."

"For a total of…"

"Eight."

"Did you sell them all to the same person?"

"He asked for five. I brought eight just to make sure he didn't change his mind and want more. I mean, shit he gave me twenty grand each."

"Did he end up buying all eight?"

"No, just the five."

"And the other three are…"

"At my house, in an aquarium."

"Okay, Pedro. This is your last chance. I need a name."

"Of my buyer?"

"Your buyer has killed three people so far. And I can only guess that he's got two more in mind."

"Or more," he mumbled.

"More?"

"Well, you know, it doesn't kill the frog or reduce its toxicity after it kills someone. I mean, I guess it does some, but…"

"It can kill up to twenty," I said with a nod. "Okay. A name. Now."

"I don't know his name."

"He paid you a hundred grand and you don't know his name?"

"He wired it to my account. I only know his alias."

"Let me guess. Kermit."

"You know him?"

"Can you describe Kermit?" I asked on a sigh.

"Yeah, sure," he agreed.

So we had a sketch. It wasn't great, but it was progress.

And then there was the case involving the Catholic school student.

The search of the locker had turned up evidence against that boy and several of his classmates, so Granger and Meeks were able to wrap that one up the same day.

And the Archdiocese had called me to apologize for dragging his feet.

Of course, there was also the arrival of Maggie McIvor.

I was hoping that she'd debunk her husband's alibi, but she didn't. Instead, she came to tell Bobby and Logan that Adam had been at their home on Sunday afternoon.

Bobby had asked her about the missing ring. She said that it was a silver band, almost like a wedding band, and it was covered in symbols.

A circle with an arrow coming out of it.

A gay pride ring.

She might not have known its significance, but I bet that Garrett McIvor did. Although if they couldn't crack his alibi, then it didn't really matter.

But the fact that his killer had likely stolen the ring had to mean something.

Someone was trying to hide the fact that Adam was gay.

So Tuesday went well.

In addition to the progress in the various cases, I'd received no complaints about any of my detectives.

Well, that's not entirely true.

I got a complaint about Yuille.

From Bobby.

"He's talking about you to other detectives," he told me Tuesday night as we entered our apartment.

"Saying what?"

"Saying what he'd like to do to you."

"You mean like…"

"Uh huh," he agreed. He told me some of the things he'd heard and then he added, "And he used to work at the 6-8. Did you know that?"

"No," I replied thoughtfully. "And it's not that I don't believe you, because I do, but it's really strange to find out he's like that. He's been so nice and compliant."

Although now that I thought about it, maybe that should've been a clue.

Detectives who made it to Major Case were a particular breed.

And I'm not saying that you have to be a rule-breaker to be successful in this business, but the ability to make your own way is definitely important.

The best detectives are ones who are independent thinkers and often times those people tended to be a little hard to get along with.

Not necessarily trouble-makers, but certainly not the pushover-type.

Which was kind of how Yuille seemed.

So he was sucking up to me?

For the purpose of what?

Was Wyatt talking bad about me, too?

"I'm not saying that he's spreading rumors or anything," he continued. "I heard it from Yuille's old partner. I don't know how many other people he said things to."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. It's fine."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing at the moment."

"It doesn't make you mad?"

"Of course it does. But I'm the boss. People talk about their bosses."

"Not like that," he argued.

"Sometimes like that," I countered. "Hey, at least he wasn't saying that I'm incompetent."

"I'm pretty sure I don't like this," he mumbled.

"Bobby. You're the only one who gets to handcuff me to the bed. Doesn't that count for something?"

And because I had a feeling about what Bobby's intentions had been the night before, his plans that had been derailed because of our horrible day, I decided to make it up to him.

I pulled my cuffs from my belt and dangled them in between us.

"You want to…" he began, his eyes widening in surprise.

"You don't?" I asked innocently.

Yes, he very much did.

And when I went into work on Wednesday, I was actually sore.

In a good way.

I didn't even argue when Bobby suggested that I wear a loose-fitting turtleneck sweater instead of the blouse I'd laid out.

Wednesday and Thursday were more of the same. Cases were closed and new ones came in.

Wyatt and Yuille had no luck in putting a name with the face on their sketch. They were also working to track the wired cash, but so far that lead was a dead end. On a good note, there were no new frog-related deaths.

I did have trouble looking at Yuille the same way.

And I really wondered how well he knew Alonzo.

Could this guy be her live-in?

Maybe that was why she was so ticked that she didn't get the Major Case job. Now she had to work in a different department from her boyfriend.

But that didn't make sense to me either. Yuille was a decent-looking guy. Too attractive for Alonzo, in my opinion. And even though I knew he'd made lewd comments about me, he was never anything but respectful to my face.

Was it just typical male interest, speculating on what the boss looked like without her power suit? Or was it something else?

Bobby was really bothered by it, although to his credit, he never said anything to Yuille.

Or not that I know of, anyway.

He did bristle whenever Yuille was in the vicinity, and he glared at him quite a bit, but he never came out and said anything.

And I let him properly work out his territorial feelings when we were off the clock.

By Friday, I was feeling like I was hitting my stride, both at work and at home.

Moran had been true to his word and he'd left me alone.

Friday afternoon, I'd gone to his office and brought him up to speed on the events of the week.

I'd run into Denise on my way out.

"Captain Eames," she'd greeted with a smile. "It's nice to see you back in this building where you belong."

"Thank you. It's good to be back. And thank you for your part in everything."

"Oh, I didn't do much," she deflected graciously.

And I realized then that I'd grossly misjudged her. I'd wanted so badly for her to be some kind of conniving vixen that I'd never given her much of a chance.

"You did plenty. The chief told me about how you put security measures on my file. I appreciate that."

"You're very welcome," she said at last. "How has your first week been?"

"Interesting," I replied carefully.

"Which means frustrating, exhausting, and overwhelming," she said on a laugh. "Don't worry. It'll get easier. If anyone can do that job, it's you."

"Thank you," I said again, and even though I'd decided that she was probably a nice person, her exuberance had me confused.

She didn't know me well at all, so how could she be so sure?

She must have read my uncertainty because she glanced around the room and then said in a low voice, "Captain Ross really wanted you to replace him."

"To replace him?"

"Uh huh. He had put in for the deputy chief position. He was going to be promoted as soon as his undercover stint was up. And he pushed hard for you to be offered his job in Major Case."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. I mean, that's not common knowledge, of course. But I know just about everything that goes on around here, and well…I didn't think it would hurt for you to know."

"Well, I had been wondering why Moran was so willing to move others around just to give me the job," I admitted.

"He felt like he owed it to Ross to follow through with his request."

"Huh," I said thoughtfully. "Thanks for telling me."

I'd gone back to my office with a feeling of pride.

_Ross had thought enough of me to want me as his successor_.

I'd finished out the afternoon and then met Bobby and Logan for a drink.

We met in a cop bar, so we kept it professional. Well, the seating arrangements anyway. The conversation wasn't anywhere near professional.

"He still won't tell me," Bobby said.

"Why not?" I asked Logan. "What's the big secret?"

"It's no secret," he replied. "It's just not worth talking about. Besides, you don't know her."

"She's a smoker," Bobby told me with a knowing smile.

"That's all you've got?" Logan retorted with a grin. "You are so far off the mark."

"You'd like to think so, wouldn't you?"

"Look, I'm just having a little fun, okay? It's nothing serious. It's never going to be anything serious. And I'd rather not tell you her name."

"Because we know her," I stated.

"No," he denied quickly.

I glanced at Bobby and we shared a smile. But it was time to let Logan off the hook. If he wanted to have a secret, we'd let him. After all, he was keeping our secret without any complaints.

"So you're coming to dinner tomorrow?" I asked him.

"Seven o'clock, right?"

"Uh huh."

"I'll be there. Hey, do your parents know about you two?"

"No," I admitted. "Well, I think my mom suspects, but we haven't actually confirmed anything."

"Okay. Just thought I'd ask. I didn't want to be the one to spill the beans."

That had been last night.

This morning, I'd been giving a lot of thought to coming clean with my parents. I didn't like having secrets from them, especially not something as important as this.

Although at the moment, considering what Bobby was doing to me, I wasn't actually thinking about much of anything.

"Do you really want to talk about work right now?" he asked me as he continued up a steady assault with his fingers and lips.

"What?"

I had absolutely no idea as to where our conversation had gone.

"You mentioned how great the week went," he said on a chuckle.

"Oh…yeah. And no. I don't want to talk about work."

"Good," he replied. And then he pushed into me as he brought his mouth down to mine and all thoughts about…everything left my mind.

I simply focused on how good he made me feel.

Afterwards, we still didn't get out of bed. I had no desire to go anywhere or do anything else. Not for a few more hours anyway.

Instead, I settled comfortably with my head against Bobby's chest and let my eyes drift closed again as he ran his fingers through my hair.

"I think we should tell my parents tonight," I said suddenly.

"About us?"

"Yeah. I don't want to hide it any longer. Not from them."

"It'll mean they'll have to keep our secret."

"I think they'd rather do that than be kept in the dark. I probably should've told them to begin with," I admitted. "Because, you know you're it for me, right? You've ruined me for any other man."

"Well, that was my Machiavellian plan," he said with a smile.

"It worked perfectly," I told him, running my hand over his chest. "But just to warn you, as soon as we tell them, it's going to open the gate."

"For what?"

"When are we going to get married…when are we going to have kids…"

"And we're going to say…"

"I'm going to tell them that I don't need either of those things."

"You don't? Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. I have you. That's all I need."

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

**Johnny POV**

* * *

I sat at a table in the restaurant with my wife, waiting on Alex to arrive.

And of course, Bobby and Mike Logan, too.

I was anxious to read their body language. All of them.

I hadn't pushed Alex for details on that undercover stint with Narcotics, nor had I said all that I wanted to about her firing of Bobby last year.

Okay, so I _had_ given her a piece of my mind, but I'd held back somewhat.

Because as far as I was concerned, partnership loyalty came first over orders from the brass.

I knew that Bobby had moved past it, and I knew that now they were both back in Major Case, but it still didn't sit right with me.

There was more to the story. She hadn't been completely honest.

And not only that, but something was going on with her and Bobby on a personal level, too.

She'd brought him to Thanksgiving dinner, for Christ's sake. She hadn't brought a man to our house for that particular holiday since Joe.

And she hadn't even done that until after they got married.

So there was more to this dinner than the obvious.

I mean, yes. I wanted to congratulate her on the promotion. It was a big deal to be the captain of Major Case.

And at her age, too.

It meant that there was a real possibility for her to become the chief of D's one of these days.

But aside from that, I wanted to get the truth from her about what had happened over the past year.

_And_ I wanted to know about her and Bobby.

It worried me somewhat to think that she was in a relationship with one of her detectives, although I knew that Bobby was so much more than that. He'd been her partner for so long was it any wonder that real feelings had developed? I'd have to trust that she knew what she was doing.

I wouldn't be able to come right out and ask her either of my burning questions, not while Logan was at the table, but I was going to fish around for a bit and see what I could learn.

It was more fun that way.

It was like an investigation.

As for Mike Logan…well, mostly I just wanted to make sure that he lived up to his reputation.

I'd heard a lot from the guys on the force and almost all of it was good. The worst thing anyone said about him was that he had a temper and I could live with that.

The thing was, I really liked Bobby.

And if I was right in my suspicion that he and my daughter were carrying on…well, then I wanted to make sure he had someone looking out for him on the job.

I couldn't let her go through a repeat of what had happened with Joe.

"Will you relax please?" Mary said in annoyance. "Your leg is bouncing like a pogo stick."

"A pogo stick?" I scoffed. "That doesn't make sense. It doesn't bounce by itself."

"Are you going to question my analogies?" she asked as she clamped her hand down on my thigh in an effort to stop the movement. "Or are you going to settle down so that our daughter doesn't walk in and find me taking you to task for being a stubborn old man?"

"It wouldn't be the first time she'd see that," I mumbled, but I stilled my leg. And then I looked up sheepishly at my wife and found her biting back a smile.

"What's going on with you tonight?" she asked me gently. "This was your idea, remember?"

"I know. And I'm looking forward to it. I'm just a little on edge."

"You're going to go detective on them, aren't you? It's killing you to think that Alex has a secret."

"So you agree that she does have a secret," I replied with a grin.

"I agree to nothing except that our daughter is forty-three years old and if she wants to have her own life without us knowing all of the details, then that's her business."

"Is that your way of trying to guilt me into leaving her alone?"

"No," she said, finally laughing. "Do your thing. I know you want to."

"I bet they come in together and she makes up some lame excuse about him needing a ride or something."

"That's why you wanted to be so early. So you could watch them walk in."

"Detective work is in my blood, sweetheart," I said, picking up her hand and kissing her knuckles.

"Well, don't look now, but here they come."

I turned and saw my daughter walking towards the table.

As expected, Bobby was right behind her. Although Logan was too, so I suppose their timed arrival didn't mean much.

I stood up and pulled Alex into a hug.

"Captain," I said quietly to her. "I'm so proud of you."

"We both are," Mary corrected, moving to get a hug, too.

"Thanks," she said with a measure of embarrassment. "It's really not that big of a deal."

"Humble brass," I chuckled after shaking Bobby's hand. "Now there's something new."

"Um…Mike Logan, meet my father, Johnny Eames," Alex introduced.

I shook his hand and sized him up, deciding almost instantly to like him. Especially when after being introduced to Mary, he flashed her a charming smile and kissed the back of her hand.

"I appreciate the invitation," Logan said. "You have quite the daughter."

"We think so," Mary agreed with a smile. Then she gestured towards the chairs and said, "Let's sit down. Tell us about your first week back."

An hour later, I realized that my first impression about Logan was dead-on.

I also decided that my suspicion that Alex was in a relationship with Bobby was correct, too.

And they didn't have to say a word, or touch each other, or anything for me to know it.

I simply glanced at Bobby at one point during the conversation, when Logan was recounting a tale from an investigation years ago, and I caught Bobby looking at Alex.

It was written all over his face.

My first thought was that maybe he was in love with her and she just didn't know it.

But then she looked back at him and smiled and there was my proof.

I glanced quickly at Mary to see if she'd seen what I saw.

She had.

And then I noticed that Alex had caught me looking at Mary. Logan noticed too, because he trailed off his sentence and suddenly the whole table went quiet.

"Yes, Dad," Alex said at last.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Bobby and I are in a relationship. It's been going on for about seven months. No one knows except Logan. And now you two."

"You fired him when you were in love with him?"

I'm not sure why that was my first question.

"Johnny!" Mary admonished, but Alex started laughing.

"Maybe we should start from the beginning."

So Mary and I sat back and listened as our three dinner guests filled us in on the past year. Bobby and Alex did most of the talking, while Logan added a few entertaining details.

To say that I was in shock would be an understatement.

I mean, I'd considered that more was going on than she'd previously admitted, but they'd conducted a secret undercover operation to infiltrate the FBI and flush out a dirty agent?

"Alex, that sounds awfully dangerous. And why didn't you tell us from the beginning?" Mary asked her.

"It _was_ dangerous, which is why we did it together. We didn't want to put you guys in the position of having to lie, so…I don't know. We held back, and then it lasted for so much longer than we expected."

"You _were_ together at Thanksgiving," my wife said victoriously. At Alex's nod, she added, "I knew it!"

"So you fired him as a ruse to solidify his cover story," I stated. "Okay, well _that_ makes sense."

"After everything we told you, that's the thing you're most focused on?" Alex asked me with a smirk.

"Well, I just couldn't understand how you could be so cold and calculating and that was even before I knew how you felt about him," I explained.

"Don't give her too much credit," Logan said. "She was ready to fire both of us this week."

"I was not," she argued. "You maybe. Not Bobby."

"We were equally culpable," Bobby reminded her.

"So you keep telling me."

"What did they do?" I asked her.

"Did you hear about the councilman's son who was murdered?" she questioned.

"Of course. McIvor, right?"

"Yes. In a lapse of judgment, I assigned it to those two," she told me, nodding her head at Bobby and Logan.

"Hey, we're closing in on our suspect. Tell me another pair of detectives who would be so close to an arrest."

"None," she admitted. "And I know. That's exactly why I gave it to you two."

"So who did it?" Mary asked.

She'd always loved the idea of police work and she'd been a great sounding board for me over the years. I can't begin to quantify the number of cases she helped me solve just by pointing out some little fact after I rehashed evidence with her.

"The councilman," Logan said.

"Maybe," Alex corrected.

"No, we know he did it," Bobby said. "We just can't prove it yet."

"Which means we're not saying it yet," Alex reminded him.

"Now you sound like brass, Alex," I teased.

"That's because I _am_ the brass. And the councilman placed two calls this week to the commissioner in an effort to have these two removed, so..."

"So we're on a short leash," Logan finished as he rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Not a short leash," Alex fired back, although she was fighting back a smile. "You're just treading carefully."

"Which is brass-speak for short leash," Logan said in a loud whisper.

"So how do you know he did it?" Mary asked.

"We can't really discuss an ongoing investigation," Alex told her.

"With your mother?"

"With anyone. But keep an eye on the news. There'll be an arrest soon. Right?"

"Monday," Logan said firmly. "We're going to bring him in and get him to crack."

"You're bringing him in?" Alex asked him.

"We're going to invite him to the precinct so that we can go over the particulars of his son's murder investigation," Bobby clarified.

"You think he's going to fall for that old trick?" I asked.

"Uh huh," Logan said with a nod. "He's pretty arrogant. He thinks we're clueless. And his wife alibied him, so as far as he's concerned, he's untouchable."

"The boy's mother is helping cover it up?" Mary asked. "Why would she do that? That's her son."

"And her husband," Alex pointed out.

"I don't care," Mary said firmly. "That's wrong. She has to know that."

I watched Alex as she and Bobby shared a look and then they both nodded.

"We'll invite them both," Bobby said. "Maybe it'll help for Maggie to hear what her husband has to say."

"I should hope so," Mary answered. "No offense, Johnny, but if that were me…"

"I know."

I understood her sentiment. Parents were supposed to protect their kids. It was the natural order of things.

"So what else is going on?" I asked.

"The boss here is tracking down Kermit the Frog," Logan said.

She smirked at him and shook her head before turning to me.

"I've got a guy killing with frog poison. It's…very strange, to say the least."

"And creative," I mused. "How's he doing it?"

"We think he's putting a frog in the victim's desk drawer. The toxin from the frog transfers onto the papers in the drawer, and then when the person touches the papers, it's absorbed into the skin."

"Not really an exact science. What if someone else touches the papers first? And how is the killer getting access to the desk drawers? And the killer waits around while the frog spreads his toxin and then takes him with him when he leaves? How many victims are there?"

"Johnny," Mary interrupted. "I'm sure they'd like to take a break from shoptalk."

"It's okay, Mom."

"No, your mother's right," I agreed.

By this time, the waiter brought our meals to the table, so the conversation slowed down as we all began to eat.

"So, Logan," I said after a few minutes. "How did you manage to get the skinny on their relationship when Mary and I didn't even know?"

Logan quickly looked at Alex and Bobby, as though he wasn't sure how to answer the question.

"I'm not upset, son," I added. "I can understand why my little girl waited more than seven months to tell me that she was involved with someone. Her _partner_."

"Dad," Alex began.

"I'm kidding. I honestly do understand. I was just curious as to how Logan factored in."

"Well, I told you that we were under constant surveillance," she explained.

"Right."

"So sometimes, it was nice to go somewhere and _not_ be watched," she said carefully.

"To work on the investigation?"

"Um…yeah," Logan agreed. "They came over to work."

"Oh, okay," I said. That made sense. It would be hard to work on a case covertly while being watched by unknown parties. I nodded and then realized that Mary was staring at me, shaking her head.

"What?" I asked her.

"Nothing. So, what will happen if the chief finds out about your relationship?"

"I'm not sure. Although we're pretty sure that Maas figured it out and he seemed okay with it. I think as long as we keep it low-profile, it won't really matter."

"But you're his boss," I reminded her. "Surely that's an important factor. You're not just partners anymore."

"It's possible that I would be transferred to another department," Bobby admitted.

"You're okay with that risk?"

"Absolutely."

I watched the two of them as Bobby stared intently at Alex and she smiled back at him.

"If it makes you feel any better, if I didn't know, then I wouldn't know," Logan said. And then he glanced over at them and rolled his eyes and added, " I mean, when we're at _work_. When we're not at work, it's like hanging out with newlyweds."

"Logan," Alex admonished.

"Hey, I'm just being honest," he said with a grin.

"Speaking of newlyweds," Mary began.

"No, Mom," Alex said quickly. "No, we're not getting married. No, we're not having kids. We're living together. That's it. So don't start up with that, okay?"

"I was going to tell you that your cousin Anne is getting married," Mary clarified.

"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," I said as I put my arm around my wife. "That's not what she was going to say."

We finished dinner and Logan excused himself shortly thereafter.

"It was nice meeting both of you," he said cordially. "And don't worry. I'll keep Goren out of trouble."

"Uh huh," Bobby retorted. "And who's going to keep you out of trouble?"

"Me? I'm as pure as the driven snow."

"Exactly. Tell your lady-friend hello."

"Lady-friend?" I asked.

"He doesn't know what he's talking about," Logan scoffed. "I'll see you guys on Monday."

He left the restaurant and Mary quickly pounced.

"Does he have a girlfriend? Because you know, he'd be perfect for Nancy's daughter, Cindy."

"No fix-ups, Mom," Alex said. "He does fine on his own."

"He seems like a good guy," I said. "He's a good partner?"

"He's the second best one I've ever had," Bobby replied, once again looking at Alex.

I was starting to see what Logan meant. The way they looked at each other was like they couldn't wait to be alone.

And then it hit me. The earlier conversation.

_That_ was why they'd gone to Logan's place to escape surveillance.

I gave myself an internal eye-roll for my own idiocy.

But I had to admit, I'd never seen Alex happier.

Ever, not even when she was married to Joe.

And I thought a lot of Bobby. He was a good man. It wasn't every guy who could handle being a subordinate to his girlfriend.

They would undoubtedly have a few kinks to work out, but it was quite obvious that he loved my daughter. And she loved him.

If they were willing to risk the consequences, then who was I to argue?

"It's a cleaning service!" Mary said suddenly.

All three of us turned to look at her, none of us having a clue as to the cause of her outburst.

"Um, maybe you should lay off the wine, honey," I told her as I reached for her glass.

"Stop it," she said, slapping my hand away. "I'm talking about Kermit."

"What about him?"

"Your murders are happening in office buildings, right? Have you interviewed the cleaning services? Because those guys would have access to the offices, they could have time to do what they needed to do, and they wear gloves while they're cleaning, so that way they also wouldn't be touching the frog!" she finished triumphantly.

See what I mean? She should've joined the force.

"Not a bad idea," Alex admitted. "But why? What possible reason could a janitor have for killing random people? We've found no connection between the victims."

"It's an assassin," I suggested.

"An assassin whose choice of weapon is a frog," Alex stated dubiously.

"It could be. I mean, how did you even figure out that it was a frog?"

"Because we have an excellent ME," Bobby said.

"So…otherwise, you would think these people died of natural causes, right?"

"Not necessarily, but we certainly wouldn't have connected the deaths."

"So there you go," Mary said with a smile. "You need to find out if the buildings in question use the same service. And even if they don't, you know those places hire temps all the time. It could be someone who's finagling their way onto a crew. You need to do background checks on all of them, and…"

"I got it, Mom," Alex said with a grin. Then she turned to Bobby and said, "I'm going to call Wyatt. I know they're working tonight. I want to find out if they checked this angle."

"I bet they didn't," Mary said proudly. "You let me know how that turns out."

Alex excused herself to make the phone call, and Mary went to the ladies' room, so Bobby and I were alone at the table.

"Um…I'm sorry that we kept so much from you," he said after a minute.

"It's okay," I told him. "I understand. I'm just glad that I know now."

"And you're okay with…everything?"

"Am I okay with the fact that you're living with my daughter?" I asked him, working hard to hold back a smile.

For some reason, it seemed as though he was expecting me to be upset about it.

"Well, yes."

"It's obvious that you're in love with her. In fact, I've thought that maybe you were for quite some time now. And in all the time I've known you, you've always treated her with respect."

"Respect, definitely," he said. "But over the years, there have been a few times…"

"There are always a few times, in every relationship. And no, I'm not crazy about the risk that the two of you are taking. I'd hate to see it derail either of your careers. But I understand it. If anyone had told me that I had to stay away from Mary…well, let's just say that wasn't going to happen."

"Yeah, she's something," he agreed with a smile. "She may have just cracked the case of the killer frog."

"She's quite the catch," I told him. And then I added, " Like her daughter. Alex seems very happy."

"I believe she is, yes."

"Good. Let's keep it that way, okay?"

He nodded, but before he could respond verbally, Alex came back to the table.

"So, what did I miss?" she asked, and I noticed that she pulled her chair closer to Bobby before sitting down so that he could put his arm around her. She relaxed against him and then turned to look at me and she just looked so…content.

There was no way in the world I would ever begrudge her _this,_ right here. She'd worked so hard, her entire career, never making enough time for her personal life, especially since losing Joe.

But she deserved this.

She deserved the success at work _and_ at home.

"Bobby and I are going over to McIvor's house and beat a confession out of him," I teased. "Are you in?"

She barked out a laugh and shook her head.

"That would _not_ surprise me," she said, still chuckling.

"Actually, we're getting ready to make a toast," I told her as Mary got back to the table.

"We're not drinking to me," she deflected. "I've gotten enough accolades about this captain thing."

"Oh, Alex, let your father have his moment," Mary said. "It's not every day one of our kids gets promoted to captain. Not to mention the successful undercover operation _and_ the latest developments in your love-life. We're drinking to all of that."

"We're going to get drunk," she retorted dryly. "And it's really not necessary."

"Fine. We'll drink to Bobby," I said.

"Me?"

"You had a successful undercover. You're back at Major Case. And you put a smile on my daughter's face. None were easy feats, I'm sure, but especially that last one."

"Now _that_, I'll drink to," Alex agreed, and then she clinked her glass against mine.

A few hours later, as Mary and I got ready for bed, I thought back over the evening. Apparently Mary was, too.

"What do you think will happen?" she asked me.

"If they get caught?"

"Uh huh."

"The chief's not stupid. He won't cut off his nose to spite his face. He needs them in Major Case."

"So if they get caught, then it shouldn't change much."

"I don't know. But probably not."

"So they could get married."

"Mary…not everyone wants to get married. And Alex went that route once."

"So you're okay with them living together, without the prospect of them ever making it official?"

I thought back over the looks I'd seen pass between the two of them at dinner. Hell, even when they'd been at the house _before_ I knew about their relationship. It was like now that I knew, it all made perfect sense. They'd definitely been in love for a long time.

"I don't think they need a minister to make it official," I replied.

"That's true," she agreed. She'd just been prodding me to get me to talk. As much as Mary liked weddings, she wasn't so old-fashioned that she thought they were required.

"In fact, I'd say things are perfect for them just like they are."

TBC...


	13. Chapter 13

**Logan POV**

* * *

This week had been one of the craziest of my life.

Exhausting, stressful, emotional, and sexually gratifying.

I'd expected the first three, but not the fourth.

Even after running into Rodgers at Pete's on Monday night…after spending the night with her while experimenting with a vast array of sexual positions, I still hadn't anticipated that we would be getting together on such a regular basis.

But we did.

Tuesday, when I saw her in the morgue, I had to work hard to focus on our conversation.

I kept seeing her as she'd been the night before.

And I know, that was _very_ unprofessional of me, but I couldn't help myself.

I wanted to be with her like that again.

My little lost pen ruse hadn't fooled Goren, but I don't think he knew the actual reason behind it. He just knew that I was off.

But I'd hustled back into the morgue that day, catching her by surprise.

"Detective," she'd said. "Was there something else?"

"Um…no," I said, her use of the term _detective_ throwing me off balance for some reason.

She was easily maintaining her distance while I was…not.

"Okay," she said, watching me cautiously.

I continued to stand there, just looking at her, until she finally cracked a smile.

"It's a little weird, isn't it?" she asked.

"Weird can be good though, right?"

"I think weird is good."

"I…um…I bought a pack of cigarettes this morning," I told her.

"You did?"

All of my doubts were erased by the look of intense interest that crossed her face.

"I did. Two, actually," I admitted. I'd picked them up when I bought Eames the doughnut.

"That might last us until tomorrow," she quipped.

And then she raked her eyes over me in a predatory manner that caused my mouth to go dry.

"That's what I was thinking," I replied.

"I should be home by seven," she said after glancing around the room.

"I have no idea when I'll be done."

"You know where to find me."

Yes I did.

And I managed to make it there by seven-thirty.

We didn't get through both packs, but we made a hell of a dent in one. If we kept this up, we were both going to get addicted to the nicotine.

But I could think of worse ways to go.

After an enjoyable dinner with Eames' parents on Saturday night, I left the restaurant and stopped by a bodega to pick up another pack because those two I bought on Tuesday were long gone.

And then I headed for Liz's.

_Again_.

I hadn't stayed there _every_ night this week.

Thursday, we'd gone to my place.

Or rather, I'd gone home alone to my place because she was working late.

She'd called me at twelve-thirty.

"Did I wake you?" she asked me.

"No. Where are you?"

"Downstairs. I don't want to seem presumptuous, but…"

I hung up and buzzed her in.

I was glad she'd been presumptuous because I'd been hanging out, alone, bored out of my mind.

And I was anything but bored when Liz was around.

She had a great sense of humor and I laughed more when I was with her than I had in a very long time.

She'd said the same thing about me, too.

I didn't kid myself into thinking that this was anything long term, but I was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

So when she came up to my apartment late Thursday night, I'd answered the door, completely naked.

I just flung it open and then stood there expectantly.

"Logan!" she yelled in surprise, hurrying inside so that she could close the door. "What are you doing? Someone could see you!"

"Someone did," I'd answered with a shrug. "You."

"Is this what you do when I'm not around?" she asked in amusement. "Sit around naked?"

"I got this way after you called."

"What if I didn't come here for sex?"

"Who said anything about sex?" I said with a grin. "I just thought maybe you'd like a beer."

I turned around and headed for the kitchen before calling back over my shoulder, "So, do you want one?"

She joined me in the kitchen before I could even open the refrigerator door.

In fact, she pinned me up _against_ that door and we didn't get around to having a beer until much later.

While we smoked a cigarette.

Sitting on my kitchen floor.

"So what kept you late?" I asked her.

"Bus accident," she replied. "It was…not a good night. I never get used to kids."

"I know what you mean," I agreed with a nod. "You want to talk about it?"

She did.

And somewhere in the back of my mind, as I put my arm around her and held her against my chest, it occurred to me that maybe we were blurring the lines of a physical-only relationship.

But we were friends, too, right?

We could be both.

We could be friends and lovers and yet not be in love.

_Couldn't we?_

Friday night, she'd gone to dinner with a few of her co-workers while I had drinks with Goren and Eames.

I'd known that I wouldn't be able to keep my relationship a secret from Goren for long, but I had expected to make it more than a week. Hell, he'd been fishing since that first morning when he smelled smoke on me, but so far he hadn't figured out the _who_ part.

"What's the big secret?" Eames asked me.

"It's no secret," I said. "It's just not worth talking about. Besides, you don't know her."

"She's a smoker," Goren said, as though that was some damning piece of evidence.

Although it was probably good that he thought that. No one knew that Liz smoked.

Except, I guess, previous sexual partners, but I was pretty sure Goren wasn't one of those.

They finally let the topic go and we discussed the McIvor case for a little while before I decided it was time to call it quits.

And that had nothing to do with the fact that it was nine forty-five and Liz had told me she'd probably be home by ten.

"So you're coming to dinner tomorrow?" Eames asked me as I got ready to leave.

"Seven o'clock, right?"

"Uh huh."

"I'll be there. Hey, do your parents know about you two?"

"No. Well, I think my mom suspects, but we haven't actually confirmed anything."

I found it hard to believe that anyone could be around these two for more than five minutes and not realize they were in a relationship, but I kept my thoughts to myself.

Although, I had to admit that they hid it well at work.

I was starting to think that I knew what it was like, trying to maintain a professional countenance while having lascivious thoughts.

It made it difficult to concentrate sometimes.

But it certainly wasn't the first time I'd had a workplace relationship.

There was Claire Kincaid, until she'd dumped me for Jack McCoy. She'd been killed a year after our break-up, but it had still been a devastating loss. I felt like I knew what Liz must have gone through when Ross was killed. I wished now that I'd been around during that time.

Over the course of my time at the NYPD, I'd also had a thing with Liz Olivet. There was nothing healthy about that relationship and it had fizzled out after only a few months.

And then there was Carolyn Barek.

She and I had been hot and heavy for a brief time. We'd pushed the envelope quite a bit and damn near got caught by Deakins. Twice. I'd honestly thought that I was in love with her. Hell, I _know_ I was in love with her, but as soon as I said the words she left me.

I couldn't blame her. I wasn't exactly the kind of guy a woman wanted to settle down with.

I was much better suited as a rebound guy. Fun in the sack and good for a few laughs, but when it was time for a commitment, that's when they always moved on.

So having a fling with Liz, while maybe not my smartest move, did fit my pattern. And she was a lot more like me than any of the previous women I'd been with. She wasn't looking for anything long-term, either.

She was just tired of being alone.

And so was I.

So Friday night, I'd left Goren and Eames at the bar and then I'd gone to Liz's place.

And Saturday night, I did the same thing.

"So you had dinner with Goren and Eames?" Liz asked me.

I'd been in her apartment for almost an hour, but we'd just now spoken for the first time. She'd attacked me as soon as I walked in the door and her needs didn't involve words.

"Yeah. It was kind of a work thing," I said.

"And her parents were there?"

"Her dad wanted to meet me," I explained. "He already knew Goren because…well, because they've been partners forever."

"So what's their story?" she asked me. We were sitting together on the floor in her living room, in front of the fire.

It was almost disconcerting to realize how at home I felt at her place after less than a week.

"Whose story?"

"Goren and Eames. They've been partners for years. Neither of them ever dates, or at least not that I've heard about. He knows her parents. They went undercover together for a _whole year_."

"Yeah. So?"

"Come on, Logan. You're friends with them. Are they sleeping together? I mean, they have to be, right?"

"They _have_ to be?" I said on a laugh. "I'm not sure that's how they see it."

Not exactly a lie.

I didn't want to be in this conversation, but if I was too obvious about my discomfort then it would make her suspicious.

Man, sometimes I really hated having secrets.

"So there's nothing going on between them," she stated disbelievingly.

"Just because partners are close doesn't mean there's a physical relationship," I countered vaguely.

"So you never slept with any of your partners?"

"Ah, see sweetheart, we weren't talking about me, now were we?" I teased, although I would almost rather be talking about me than them.

"Which means that you did," she replied. "Who? No wait. Don't tell me. Not Wheeler."

"No," I said firmly. "No, there was definitely no chance of that."

"It must have been Falacci," she said with a grin.

"Liz, you're breaking my heart. You really think so little of me?"

"No, I know who it was. Barek, right? The two of you had a spark," she said quietly.

"That was a long time ago," I answered. I tightened my arm around her, pulling her closer to me. "Can you guess who gives me a spark now?"

"A spark?"

"A forest fire," I amended. "A volcanic eruption."

"That sounds more like a medical condition," she joked. "Do I need to give you an examination?"

"I would love for you to examine me."

Sunday, we were both off of work and neither one of us were on call, so we did something that was probably ill-advised while trying to maintain a no-strings attached relationship.

We went out of town together.

It was just to Atlantic City and just for the day, but still…it meant that we spent the entire day together.

When we got back, it was nearly midnight on Sunday night, and we both had to be at work the next day, but she still invited me in.

"I have a suit in my trunk," I told her.

"Bring it," she said with a grin.

So I grabbed my clean suit and followed her into her place.

Monday morning, I got to 1PP at seven-thirty. After the weekend off, I was ready to take it to McIvor.

Apparently Goren was too, because he was already at his desk.

"You look well-rested," he remarked as I took off my jacket.

"Ready to hit the ground running," I agreed. "How early can we call McIvor?"

"Let's give it an hour. I'm betting he's back at work today."

"Is the boss good with our plan?"

"She's got our backs."

"What've you got there?" I asked him, since he'd barely looked up from a print-out.

"You know those emails we found last week? The ones to the gmail account listed as dpc08?"

"Yeah," I said as I sat down.

Adam had exchanged numerous emails with the unknown person using that email address. Some had been pornographic, but most were just complaints from the mystery confidante to Adam about him not being fully out of the closet.

In fact, one of the emails had said:

_**What's he going to do? Kill you? Man up, Adam. You can't be scared of him forever.**_

Of course, it didn't specifically mention Adam's father, but who else could he have been talking about?

"Well, if we assume that 08 is the year he graduated and DPC are his initials, then all we need to do is find males who fit that description, right?"

"By going through lists from the graduating classes of 2008?"

He smiled at me apologetically and handed over half of his stack.

"Look at it this way. There are only five hundred and ninety-eight high schools in the five boroughs. We each do half and that means…"

"Only a billion students each," I finished gruffly.

"We only have to look through the C's from each school," he reminded me.

We'd already checked the roles of NYU so we knew that he wasn't a student there, and his description didn't match up to anyone in the missing persons database. So yeah, we were this desperate.

"What if 2008 was when he graduated college? Or maybe it was just a really good year for him."

"Then this won't work," he agreed. "But we can't leave that body in the morgue as a John Doe forever. It was someone who was important to Adam. And he's important to our case. We need to figure out who he was."

So for the next hour, we each scoured through the stacks.

Then, at eight-thirty, we took a break and Goren called McIvor.

"This is Detective Goren with Major Case," he told him. "We've made some headway with your son's investigation and we'd like you to come down to One Police Plaza so that we can go over the latest information with you. Yes sir. Eleven o'clock? That sounds great."

He hung up and looked at me.

"He sounded congenial enough."

"Sure, because he's a smug bastard who has his wife under his thumb. Aren't we going to invite her, too?"

"Uh huh," he said. "But McIvor's at work and the wife is at home. Let's not call her right away. I'll be curious to see if he calls her himself. I'm betting that he won't."

"It sure would be nice if we can find this DPC before eleven," I mumbled as I got back to work.

A little more than an hour later, I thought that maybe I had him.

"Hey, Goren," I said, unable to contain my excitement. "Check it out. Damon Philip Cordova. Edward R. Murrow High School in Brooklyn, class of 2008."

Goren immediately started typing into his computer.

"I've got six Cordovas in that school district," he said.

"Give me three," I told him.

So we called the phone numbers, asking for Damon. On the fifth one, which was mine, we got a hit.

"Damon ain't around any more," the woman told me.

I snapped my fingers to get Goren's attention, and then asked, "He's not around? Oh, okay. This is his buddy Mike from school. Do you know where I can reach him?"

"How the hell should I know? His father kicked his punk ass out six months ago, okay? And if you were really a buddy, you'd probably know that. What, does he owe you money or something?"

"No, nothing like that."

"Well, don't tell him I told you, but last I heard, Damon was crashing at the Bowery."

I thanked her and then hung up.

"Bowery in Brooklyn," I told Goren as I checked my watch. "Can we get there and get back by eleven?"

"Let's find out."

TBC...


	14. Chapter 14

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I knocked on Alex's door and waited for her to call me in.

"We've got a lead on our John Doe's identity," I told her. "We're going to check it out. McIvor is supposed to be here at eleven, but we should be back by then."

I stayed in the doorway, but I watched her closely as she sat back in her chair and made eye contact with me.

"He agreed to come in?"

"He wasn't overly hostile," I replied. "And he didn't seem suspicious."

"Okay. Good. So your list of graduating seniors gave you the hit?" she asked, and then she got up and walked around to the front of her desk and she just looked so…I don't know. I can't describe it.

But a psychologist would probably have a field day with the fact that suddenly all I could think about was grabbing her from behind and bending her over that desk.

It was crazy, really.

It's not like we ever had, or ever would be able to actually do something like that in her office.

But I was now idly wondering if maybe I could buy a desk like this one and have it in our apartment.

Maybe we could recreate the scenario.

"Goren?"

"Yeah…um…yeah, the list. Edward R. Murrow class of 2008. He was kicked out of his house, which is probably why no one reported him missing, and he's been staying at the Bowery in Brooklyn."

"How would a rich NYU student meet up with someone like that?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm hoping to find out."

"Okay. Let me know if you're not going to make it back in time and I'll see what I can do about McIvor," she said. "Oh, hey, Moran sent down one more form that I need you to sign."

As she spoke, she leaned over her desk so that she could reach inside the front drawer.

I shouldn't be staring so blatantly, but I couldn't help myself.

"That's the kind of thing she needs to do more often."

The remark was said by Yuille, who had come to stand next to me in the doorway. It was said under his breath so that I would be the only one to hear and I jerked my eyes away from her backside and instead focused on him.

Only he was still leering at her.

"I'll be finished in just a minute," I said, stepping all the way into the office and slamming the door in Yuille's face.

Alex turned around and looked at me, with the paper in hand, oblivious to what had transpired.

"What…"

"Yuille's waiting," I said in annoyance.

"Okay."

"I don't like the way he was looking at you," I admitted.

I took the paper from her hand and scrawled my name on the dotted line without even reading the document. I trusted that Alex knew what it was and she wouldn't have asked me to sign something sketchy.

"Bobby," she said in a low tone. "You can't be like that. It's going to make you come across as jealous."

"It can't keep going on like this," I insisted. "And our relationship isn't the issue here. He's being disrespectful of his superior officer."

"I agree, but until he does it in front of me, I can't say anything about it. Otherwise, he'll just deny it."

"Alex…" I said in frustration.

"I know. Now here," she said. "Sign this, too."

She put another paper in front of me and I bent over to sign my name.

The page was blank.

"What is this?"

"We're in here talking with the door closed while your partner is still at his desk," she reminded me. "Would you rather they think it's for paperwork purposes or something more sordid?"

"Honestly? I'd rather everyone in this squad room know that we're together," I said petulantly, but then I let out an annoyed sigh and added, "But you're right."

I scribbled on the paper for another moment and then stood up and handed it to her.

She glanced down at it and smirked.

I'd written her a dirty message.

"Get out of here before I can't control myself," she said, ducking her head to hide her smile.

I walked across the room and opened the door, and she called out, "Thank you, Detective. I'll get these to HR this morning and then you should be good."

"Thanks, Captain."

I left her office, purposely bumping into Yuille on my way out.

"Sorry, Goren," he said glibly. Then he went into Alex's office and closed the door.

_He _certainly didn't have any problem being alone in her office with the door closed.

I was definitely going to have to do something about him.

I marched over to my desk and grabbed my coat.

"Are you ready?" I barked at Logan.

"Yeah, sure. What's going on?"

"Nothing," I answered.

"Yuille?" he asked as we got on the elevator. "I saw you slam the door on him."

"I need to let it go," I said with a shake of my head.

"You're going to stand around while he's beating off with images of Eames in his head? No way. You have to do something."

"If I say something, then it looks suspicious. Why should I care so much? Why don't I just join in the fun? After all, it's just normal male speculation, right?" I asked bitterly.

"No, it's not. Not the way he's doing it. And she's our boss, so everything else is irrelevant."

"Maybe," I agreed.

Because he did have a point.

Even though I'd never been a huge fan of Ross, I still wouldn't have tolerated people bad-mouthing him.

And even though Yuille thought his statements were complimentary, they weren't.

They were an attempt to reduce Alex to being just a sex object.

If he kept it up, then pretty soon everyone in the department would be looking at her in the same way and she'd lose their respect through no fault of her own.

But I tabled thoughts of retribution against Yuille and instead focused on the current matter at hand.

Logan drove us to the Bowery, where we showed the morgue photo of our John Doe.

"That's Damon Cordova," one of the employees told us sadly. "I hoped that maybe he was staying with his boyfriend and that was why he hadn't been back. I didn't consider this…"

"His boyfriend," I said. "Do you know who that was?"

"Adam something or other. I'm not sure of the last name. Damon talked about him for two weeks non-stop and then last Sunday night, when he didn't come back…well, like I said. I thought he was spending the night at Adam's."

"Did Damon have a job?"

"He was working maintenance over at NYU."

"Did he leave any personal belongings?"

"A knapsack," she told us. "I figured he'd swing by for it one of these days. Let me get it for you."

She disappeared down a hall.

"So now we know for sure," Logan remarked. "Adam and Damon were lovers. They were both killed on the same night. Different methods or not, it has to be the same killer. McIvor may have caught them and flew into a rage."

"Or he approached Damon," I suggested.

"Alone?"

"If Adam had been around when McIvor was strangling Damon, don't you think there would be bruising on him from where he tried to stop it?"

"Yeah, okay. I'm with you. Go ahead."

"Alright, so McIvor sees them, but doesn't let on that he knows. Later, he approaches Damon alone, maybe tries to talk him out of being with Adam."

"Or tries to bribe him?"

"Exactly. Damon doesn't go for it and so McIvor kills him."

"And then he kills Adam? Why? He just got rid of the boyfriend."

"Maybe he tried to convince Adam that he wasn't really gay. Then he torments him with the fact that he just killed Damon. But instead of going compliant, Adam gets upset and says he's going to the police."

"Detectives?" the employee called out. "Here's his bag. I guess it's okay to give it to you."

"We'll make sure that it gets to his next of kin," I assured her. "Oh, and the last time you saw Damon...it was a week ago Sunday, right? Did he mention specifically where he was going?"

"He just said that he was going to spend the afternoon with Adam. I'm not sure where. And yes, that was the last time I saw him."

"Okay. Thank you."

We left the Bowery and went back to the car where I opened up the knapsack.

Inside, there was a change of clothes, fourteen dollars and several photos of Damon and Adam together.

"This was all of his worldly possessions, huh?" Logan mused. "He didn't have anything except Adam and that jerk McIcvor had to put an end to that, too."

"Garrett probably thought it was his lucky day. The boyfriend was a street kid whom no one would miss," I said quietly.

"We need to nail him, Goren."

"We will," I said. I checked my watch and saw that it was ten-thirty. "Come on. Get us back to 1PP before he shows up."

"How do you want to play this?"

"I've got an idea about how to set him off."

"Making him mad is the easy part. The trick will be to keep him in the room."

"I think I know how to do that, too."

We didn't get back to the squad room until five after eleven. I'd called Mrs. McIvor along the way and asked her to come down. She sounded surprised to hear from me, so it was a safe bet that Garrett hadn't called her.

"Goren, Logan!" Alex called to us when we got off the elevator.

"Yeah, Captain?" Logan replied.

"Garrett McIvor is waiting in Interrogation Three."

"You got him into an interrogation room?" I asked her.

"Yeah, well, you know…the conference rooms are all being fumigated, so it was really the only private place for you guys to talk," she said with a smirk. "What did you find out about the J.D.?"

"He's no longer a John Doe," I told her. "His name was Damon Cordova and he was definitely Adam's lover."

"That's his?" she asked, nodding toward the knapsack.

"There's not much here, but yeah. It was his. We'll see what we can get out of McIvor and then we'll go notify Damon's family. Oh, and Maggie McIvor is on her way here, too."

"Good," she replied. "Let's wrap this thing up, okay?"

"That's the plan," I agreed.

She went down the hall into the observation room while Logan and I paused at our desks. This was going to be our first interrogation together this go-round and I wanted to make sure we were on the same page.

"Where is Captain Eames?" a voice bellowed. I looked up to see the commissioner striding through the room.

"Sir, she's in the observation room," I said, pointing him in the right direction.

"Detective Goren, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"What's this I hear about you dragging Garrett McIvor down here?"

"We invited him. There was no dragging involved," I corrected.

"And where is _he_?"

"Interrogation Three," Logan said.

"You've got him in an interrogation room like a common suspect?"

"Sir, right now he _is_ a suspect."

The commissioner glared at us for a moment longer and then stormed off to find Alex.

"We need to hurry," I said to Logan.

We hustled down the hall, but as we passed by the door, we could hear the commissioner.

In fact, we could hear both of them.

_**"They've followed the evidence!" **_Alex yelled at him. _**"And this is where it's brought them."**_

_**"He's a goddamn councilman! There are ways of treating men like him…"**_

_**"Men like him,"**_ she repeated. _**"You mean men who kill their own son?"**_

_**"You don't know that."**_

_**"No, but I'm about to find out."**_

_**"Your detectives are not going to interrogate him."**_

_**"Yes, they are. They've dotted their I's and crossed their T's. If you let McIvor walk out of here without being questioned, then you're saying that he can get away with murder simply because of his political status."**_

"Nice one, Eames," Logan murmured. "She doesn't scare easily, does she?"

"What do you think?" I retorted with a wry smile.

_**"Captain, you'd better be right about this. Otherwise you're opening up this department to a lawsuit and I'll see to it that you're named personally."**_

_**"Give them twenty minutes," **_she insisted. _**"If they don't get anywhere in twenty minutes, then I'll apologize to him myself and send him on his way."**_

There was a heavy pause and then at last the commissioner agreed.

_**"Twenty minutes. That's it. And then I'm pulling the plug."**_

"You heard the man," Logan said. "We've got twenty minutes."

"How long will it take you to make him mad?" I asked him.

"Seriously? Five seconds. Are you going to get him to stay?"

"You just push his buttons. I'll do the rest."

TBC...


	15. Chapter 15

**Alex POV**

* * *

I folded the paper containing Bobby's x-rated suggestion and put it in the inside pocket of my blazer as Yuille walked into my office and closed the door behind him.

"Do you have a minute, Captain?" he asked politely.

Initially, I'd been snowed by his choir boy act, but now I knew better. I fought the urge to button up my jacket and instead waved him into one of the visitors' chairs.

"What can I do for you?" I asked as I went around my desk and sat down.

"I thought I would update you on our case."

"Where's Wyatt?"

"Oh, he didn't call you? He's going to be a couple of hours late today."

"Okay," I said evenly.

No, Wyatt hadn't called me. I'd have to remind him that even though we didn't necessarily work regular hours around here, a heads-up was required for something like this.

"I'm sure it just slipped his mind," Yuille said dismissively. "Anyway, I ran through the employees used by the cleaning services at all three of the locations where the murders occurred…"

He proceeded to efficiently update me on their progress.

I was going to have to call my mother. It sounded like they had a lead on a guy with a sheet who worked through a temp agency. He'd been at all three buildings on the night prior to the murders.

"You're going to go pick him up?"

"As soon as Wyatt gets here," he agreed.

"Okay. Nice work," I told him as I stood up. I was hoping that he would take the hint that our meeting was over, but he kept his seat.

"Is there something else?" I asked him.

"Yes, ma'am. I almost hate to bring it up because I don't want to seem like a snitch or anything, but…"

"Just say it."

"It's Detective Goren."

"Excuse me?" I asked in surprise. "What about Detective Goren?"

"I think that maybe he's not adjusting well to Major Case. I've sensed some hostility from him and honestly, I think it's affecting the mood of the squad as a whole."

"Hostility," I repeated. "How so?"

"Oh, nothing specific," he replied vaguely. "And not directed at me or anything. Just in general."

"He's been back a week," I stated, doing my best to sound objective. Hell, I was objective. Whatever Bobby's flaws may be, he greatly respected his fellow detectives. Yuille's accusations were ridiculous. "You barely know him."

"He just seems…I don't know. Moody. And I don't know if it's the stress of this department, or…"

"Detective Goren previously worked in Major Case for ten years, so he's quite familiar with the rigorous nature of this department," I said, working hard to keep my irritation in check. "I'm sure you know that. He was my partner."

"Yes, ma'am. Well, I'm just wondering if maybe he only did so well _because _you were his partner."

I wasn't sure what he was getting at or what his game was, but I was losing my battle with my temper.

"What are you suggesting?"

"I think that maybe you carried him. I'm not sure he's qualified to be here."

"And I'm not sure you're qualified to make that assessment," I snapped back.

"I'm not trying to do your job for you…"

"Then don't," I interrupted. "If you have a real issue with Detective Goren, then let me know. Otherwise, keep your supposition and theories to yourself."

"Yes ma'am," he answered.

I walked over to the door and opened it, a less-than-subtle hint that we were now officially done.

"I'm not trying to be the bad guy here," he said as he got up from his chair. "It's just…you know what they say about one bad apple. I don't want Goren to spoil this department. I wouldn't want something like that to reflect poorly on you."

"You worry about solving your case. I'll worry about this department," I said firmly. "Are we understood?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Send Wyatt to my office when he gets here," I added, and then I closed the door behind him.

_What a brown-nosing little asshole_, I thought as I sat back down.

He was definitely right about one thing. One bad apple could spoil the whole bushel. But Goren wasn't the bad apple. It was Yuille. How had that guy gotten the nod to Major Case, anyway? I was going to pull his personnel file.

I forced thoughts of Yuille from my mind for the time being and went back to work until my desk phone rang.

"It's Sergeant Shafer, from downstairs. I wanted to let you know that Councilman McIvor is on his way up."

"He's unescorted?" I asked, somewhat surprised. Although knowing McIvor, he'd probably bullied his way inside.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry, but the councilman said that you were expecting him."

"Thank you, Sergeant," I responded. I decided it wasn't worth lecturing him about his lax security. Not right now, anyway.

I hung up and glanced out into the squad room. Bobby and Logan still weren't back yet, so I left my office and met McIvor as he got off the elevator.

"Councilman, I'm Captain Eames."

"You're the Major Case Captain?"

"The one who is apparently expecting you," I said. I wanted him to know that I knew what he'd said at the front desk.

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head and looking at me with obvious disdain. "I was expecting someone more…more…"

"Masculine? Yeah, I know. It's hard to believe that they hand out jobs like this to women, but…"

"Wait, are you accusing me of being a chauvinist?"

_Chauvinist, homophobic, condescending…oh, and a murderer_, I thought.

But of course, I couldn't say that. Instead, I plastered on my best fake smile.

"Of course not. I believe you're here to speak with Detectives Logan and Goren, right? They should be back any minute. Let me show you to a room."

I walked with him down the hall and then opened the door to an interrogation room.

"I think there must be some kind of mistake," he said brusquely. "I'm just here so that they can fill me in on the progress of their case."

Their case. He'd completely de-personalized it.

"Oh, I know," I said quickly. "Normally we would use a conference room, but see, we had a cockroach problem, so they had to fumigate this morning."

It worked like a charm. A guy like him wouldn't want to come within twenty feet of a cockroach or any chemical designed to kill one.

And of course, I'd completely made that up.

Sure, we had cockroaches, but they were part of the ambiance. We didn't fumigate.

I could see why he'd clashed so much with Bobby and Logan. I wanted to punch him myself and I'd only spoken with him for a minute. I really hoped they would be able to get a confession out of him. Or evidence against him. Or something so that we could arrest him.

As I closed the door on the interrogation room, I saw Detective Wyatt came into the squad room. He headed for his desk, but then he caught sight of me. I waved him over, so he changed his direction and instead met me in the hallway.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Did you have something you wanted to tell me?"

"Um…I'm sorry. No, not yet. I mean, I haven't talked with Yuille yet, so I'm really not prepared to give you a rundown on our case."

"I'm not talking about your case," I said quietly. "I'm talking about your tardiness."

"Oh," he said in surprise.

"You didn't think it warranted a phone call? I'm not trying to be a hard ass here, but I do need to know if you're going to be three hours late."

He glanced quickly over his shoulder in the direction of Yuille and then looked back at me with an odd mixture of annoyance and regret on his face.

"My apologies," he said carefully. "It will never happen again."

"Okay," I replied. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, ma'am. My son is sick and my wife had to take him to the doctor, but she didn't want to take the baby with her because she didn't want the baby to catch whatever was floating around in the waiting room and…um, yes. Everything is fine. Next time I'll make sure to call you."

He waited a moment and then turned and went to his desk. I watched him interact with Yuille when he got there and I had a suspicion that I knew what had happened. Wyatt said something to Yuille in a heated whisper and then he realized I was staring, so he quit talking and instead just sat down at his desk.

The ping of the elevator pulled my attention from Wyatt and I turned to see Bobby and Logan getting off the elevator.

"Goren, Logan!"

"Yeah, Captain?" Logan replied.

"Garrett McIvor is waiting in Interrogation Three."

"You got him into an interrogation room?" Bobby asked with unmasked pride.

I explained my fumigation ruse and then they filled me in on how they'd identified their John Doe. They were doing good work on this case and I had high hopes that we could close it out today.

"Let's wrap this thing up, okay?" I said.

"That's the plan," Bobby agreed.

I left him and Logan alone so that they could formulate their strategy and I went into the observation room to wait.

McIvor was sitting at the table, his chair scooted back and he had one ankle resting on the opposite thigh. He looked comfortable, definitely not the body language of a man about to be questioned for murder.

Of course, he didn't know that.

He thought he was getting away with something.

Suddenly, the door to the observation room burst open and in came the commissioner. His face was red and he seemed out of breath.

This was not good.

I'd been hoping to get through the interrogation without him hearing about it.

So much for that idea.

"Why wasn't I made aware that you'd brought in Councilman McIvor?" he asked me.

"Apparently you are aware," I replied firmly.

"I mean by you."

"Sir, with all due respect, if you want me to call you every time one of my detectives bring in a suspect, your phone will be ringing off the hook, twenty-four seven."

"Captain, we're talking about a councilman. He's not just another suspect."

"Maybe not, but he is a suspect."

"According to whom? Goren and Logan? Based on what? Aren't they supposed to be following the evidence instead of holding a grudge?"

"They've followed the evidence!" I yelled in annoyance. "And this is where it's brought them."

"He's a goddamn councilman! There are ways of treating men like him…"

"Men like him…you mean men who kill their own son?"

"You don't know that."

"No, but I'm about to find out."

I wasn't about to cave to this kind of political pressure. Bobby and Logan had done a thorough investigation and I trusted their instincts, so I stood my ground with the commissioner.

"Give them twenty minutes," I finally bargained. "If they don't get anywhere in twenty minutes, then I'll apologize to him myself and send him on his way."

I hated putting such a time constraint on them, but I was confident in their ability to get the job done.

"Twenty minutes. That's it. And then I'm pulling the plug."

I gave him a nod and then deliberately turned back toward the window to watch the show.

And it would be a show.

There was no one better at this than Bobby. I hadn't seen Logan conduct very many interrogations, but I was curious to see how his technique melded with Bobby's.

The door in the interrogation room came open and I glanced back over my shoulder at the commissioner, who had eased a little closer to the window.

He was fully focused on the scene as it began to unfold.

_**"Good morning, Councilman," **_Bobby said politely. He remained standing by the door while Logan circled around and stood on the other side of the room.

_**"Are you ready to close this case yet?" **_he asked in annoyance. _**"It's been a week. Surely Major Case detectives are better than that. Or maybe it's just you two who aren't better than that."**_

_**"Oh, we've solved the case," **_Bobby replied easily.

"_**Great. Did you make an arrest?"**_

_**"We're just about to," **_Logan said._** "And it'll actually be for two murders."**_

"Two?" the commissioner asked me.

I shushed him and kept listening, pleased to see that McIvor hadn't questioned the number.

It was very telling.

_**"So let's start by making it official," **_Logan continued. _**"Garrett McIvor, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…"**_

"Eames, if you don't stop this ridiculous interrogation right this minute," the commissioner warned me while in the other room, McIvor balked at the reading of his rights.

_**"You want to arrest me?"**_

_**"No, right now we want to question you. But I don't know what you're going to say and I want to make sure that nothing's excluded simply because we neglected to do it by the book," **_Bobby explained.

"Eames…"

"Sir, you said twenty minutes," I reminded him sharply. "Are you a man of your word or not?"

He was quiet as Logan finished reading the Miranda rights.

_**"Do you want to waive your right to counsel?" Bobby asked McIvor.**_

_**"I don't need a lawyer,"**_ McIvor scoffed. _**"At least not for this. But I'll be calling him as soon as I leave here so that I can have him start working on the harassment suit."**_

_**"That threat's getting kind of old,"**_ Logan said, shaking his head. _**"If you were going to do it, well…you probably should've done it by now."**_

_**"You know what? I don't think I like where this is going,"**_ McIvor said suddenly. He got up from the table and headed for the door, but Bobby was standing in his path.

_**"I think you should sit down," **_he said firmly.

_**"I don't give a rat's ass what you think."**_

_**"Okay," **_Bobby said, opening up the knapsack that Logan had set on the table. _**"Then go. We'll call the paper and get them to print this picture because you know what? We can't seem to get an ID on this kid, so maybe someone in the tri-state area will recognize him from this photo."**_

As he said the words, he pulled a picture out of the bag and held it out for the councilman.

I didn't know what it was, but I had a pretty good guess. McIvor jerked it from his hand and glanced at it briefly before flinching and tossing it onto the table.

_**"You're going to extort me into an interrogation?"**_

_**"Actually, it would be blackmail," **_Bobby corrected. _**"Extortion would mean that we'd illegally obtained our information that we're using against you. But we didn't. Instead, we're just betting on the fact that you'd rather talk to us than have it publicly announced that your son was gay."**_

"His son is gay?" the commissioner asked me.

"Uh huh."

_**"Fine. You win, Detectives. What is it that you want to know?" **_he asked as he sat back down at the table.

_**"When did you find out about Adam?"**_

There was a knock on the observation room door and then Detective Jacobs stuck her head inside.

"Captain, Mrs. McIvor is here. She was asking for Detective Goren, but he's in interrogation, right?"

"Yes. Show her in here, please."

"You want the wife to see this? Are you sure?" the commissioner asked me after Jacobs left to get Maggie McIvor.

"I definitely want her to see this," I said as I pulled out my phone. "And I want them to know she's watching."

I sent Bobby a text and then greeted Maggie as she came in the room.

"What's going on here, Captain?" she asked me in confusion when she saw her husband in the other room.

"The detectives are going over the case with your husband," I told her. "They'll just be a few more minutes."

"Why is he in there? Does he know I'm here?"

"No," I began, but then she stepped closer to the window and I noticed the second she tuned me out and instead began listening to her husband.

_**"I'm going to tell you this for the last time. My son was not gay and I've never seen the boy in the picture."**_

_**"You're sure?" **_Logan questioned._** "Because we think we might know his name. Damon Cordova. Does that ring any bells?"**_

_**"I thought you couldn't ID him."**_

_**"Is that a yes?"**_

_**"It's a no. I've never heard of him."**_

_**"Look at this though," **_Bobby argued, turning the photo over and pointing at it. _**"Damon was wearing a ring in this picture. It's the same ring that your wife stated Adam was wearing at dinner on Sunday."**_

_**"My wife is mistaken."**_

_**"It's a gay pride ring,"**_ Logan pointed out.

_**"And it wasn't on my son's finger," **_McIvor insisted. _**"So maybe this Damon character was gay but Adam wasn't."**_

_**"That's what really bothers you, isn't it?" **_Logan continued. _**"That people might find out. I mean, that's why you killed him, right? To keep that fact under wraps?"**_

_**"I didn't kill him."**_

_**"So the officers at your home executing a search warrant won't find this ring," **_Bobby said, tapping the photo again. _**"And they won't find the twenty-two you used to kill Adam."**_

"A search warrant?" the commissioner asked me.

"Not really," I admitted. "Not yet."

"You're trying to catch him in a lie," Maggie said softly, not taking her eyes from her husband.

"We're trying to catch the killer," I answered. "The person who took your son away from you. He was eighteen years old and he had his whole life ahead of him."

"I know that!" she yelled back at me. "Don't you think I know that?"

"I have no doubt that you can't think of anything else," I said quietly.

_**"There aren't any officers at my house or my wife would've called," **_McIvor retorted. _**"And aside from that, I don't have a twenty-two and I've never seen that ring!"**_

_**"But will they find evidence that you wrote a check to Damon Cordova to buy him off? To try to convince him to leave Adam alone?"**_

I don't know from where they pulled that guess, but it was a direct hit.

McIvor went quiet and I could practically see the gears in his mind jamming as he tried to determine whether or not he'd left evidence of such a transaction.

I heard Maggie suck in a harsh breath.

"Oh my God," she mumbled. "He did do it. He did, didn't he?"

"Did you make up that alibi?" I asked her.

"I don't…it's not…oh my God," she said again. She covered her face with her hands, and then she nodded. "He left after dinner. I don't know where he went. He didn't get home until almost midnight."

"And do either of you own a twenty-two?"

"He had a gun," she said shakily. "I saw it once, in his glove box. I don't know what kind. He said it was for protection. He said too many people hold grudges against councilmen."

"We'd like to search your home," I said carefully, and then I hesitated and waited for her to make eye contact. "Do we have your permission to do so?"

"I'm not…I don't…" she began, and then she glanced back through the glass to where her husband was halfway through another tirade about the legal ramifications of an unsubstantiated claim of wrongdoing.

"I think he killed your son," I said. "And he might get away with it unless we can secure evidence from your home before he has the chance to destroy it."

"Okay. Yes. Yes, do it," she said in a rush. "The house and the cars. Everything is in my name because he doesn't want it to be public record. He said he doesn't think voters should get to know what we own simply because he's in office. So yes. You have my permission. Look at everything."

"Thank you. You're doing the right thing," I told her. I glanced up at the commissioner, who was still standing there slack-jawed. "Sir?"

"Um…yes, Captain. Take charge of that search. Maggie, why don't we go upstairs to Chief Moran's office and we'll wait there until the officers are finished?"

"What's going to happen to Garrett?"

"For now, we're going to hold him here. What happens after that will depend on what we find."

She nodded at me again and then let the commissioner lead her out of the room.

I knocked on the window and waited for Logan and Goren to join me. I could barely contain my excitement.

Not only were we going to catch this bastard, but we'd done it right smack in front of the commissioner.

I felt like dancing around the room, but I abstained. Barely.

"Well?" Bobby asked me as he and Logan came into the room.

"I think you guys got enough for a warrant," I told them. And then I broke into a grin. "But we don't need one. Maggie recanted her alibi and gave us blanket permission to search the house and cars."

"This is turning out to be the best day," Logan said with a nod. "Okay, good. Let's go. Do you think we're actually going to find evidence of a check?"

"It was a wild guess," Bobby admitted. "But I kept going back to the idea that Rodgers said someone had searched Adam's front pockets."

"You think Damon told Adam that Garrett tried to buy him off, maybe gave him back the check?"

"Something started the confrontation," Bobby stated. "Like I said, it was a stretch, but considering his reaction, I think I'm right."

"I'll call down and get an officer to come sit on McIvor and then we'll get out of here."

"You're coming?" Logan asked.

"We're going to conduct a search on a councilman's house. You think the press won't catch wind of it? I'm definitely coming."

"Oh come on, boss," Logan said with a grin. "We can handle the press. We know how to be PC."

I barked out a laugh and shook my head as I led the way out of the room.

"Not a chance in hell, Logan."

TBC...


	16. Chapter 16

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Sometimes, things just fall into place.

This was one of those times.

Maggie McIvor had finally pulled through, just like Alex's mom thought she should. She'd retracted the alibi, offered up permission, and then stepped back to let the chips fall.

And they fell hard.

We found the twenty-two.

It was inside of a Tupperware container in a downstairs freezer, back behind the wet bar.

I had to give him points for his attempt to hide it, although if he'd been smart, he would've tossed it in the river. Apparently he was either too cheap and didn't want to have to buy another one or too arrogant and just assumed we'd never consider that it was him.

In addition to the gun, we found the check _beneath_ the check that McIvor had written to Damon. A few quick passes with a pencil showed us what we needed to know.

"A million dollars," Logan said in disbelief. "A million dollars to walk away from his son."

"And Damon didn't do it. Good for him."

"Money doesn't keep you warm at night," Alex commented.

"No it doesn't," I agreed.

I didn't care if I was broke for the rest of my life as long as I had her.

"So we've got the murder weapon used on Adam. And we know he tried to buy off Damon. But right now, we can't tie him to Damon's murder," Logan pointed out.

He was right. And I didn't want McIvor to get away with anything.

We kept searching and I hit pay dirt in the master bedroom.

"Captain!" I called out as I squatted in front of the fire place.

"What did you find?" she asked as she approached. I pulled an evidence bag from my pocket and reached into the ash with gloved fingers.

"It looks like the corner of a driver's license," I told her. I slipped it into the plastic bag and then held it up for her to see.

"He burned Damon's wallet," she said as she examined the corner of hard plastic. "And six out of the nine digits are visible. We can work with this."

But I was still digging, using my pen to push around the ash.

That was when I found the blackened ring.

"Why would he try to burn the ring?" I mumbled to myself as I hooked it on the end of my pen. "Why not just toss it?"

"He honestly thought he wouldn't get caught," she said. "Let's bag this stuff up and get back to 1PP. We can charge McIvor with two counts of first degree murder."

We finished up at the house and went back to Manhattan where I let Logan have the pleasure of putting McIvor officially under arrest.

"Captain Eames!" the commissioner shouted as he entered the squad room. I wasn't sure why the man always felt the need to be so loud and obnoxious.

"Yes, sir," she answered.

"So the arrest has been made?"

"Yes, sir. We found irrefutable evidence at the residence. Detectives Logan and Goren are getting ready to turn it over to the District Attorney, and McIvor is currently going through processing."

"So he committed two murders? To hide the fact that his son was gay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Nice work," he said after a moment. Then he gave her a deliberate once-over and added, "Do you have your dress uniform on-site?"

"Um…yes, sir," she replied, sounding somewhat confused.

"Good. I'm going to call a press conference. Get in your blues and meet me out front in fifteen minutes."

"Oh, sir, that's really not necessary."

"Yes. It is," he insisted. Then he glanced at me, seeming to have just noticed that I was in the vicinity. "Don't you have paperwork to do, Detective?"

"Of course," I agreed, biting back a smile. I cast Alex a quick glance and headed for my desk.

"Oh, Detective Goren!" she called out to me. "You remember that memo we discussed? This morning, in my office? I think it's an excellent idea. I'll be sure to take the proper steps necessary to implement your suggestion as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Captain," I replied automatically since the commissioner was listening, but as soon as I got to my desk, I had to take a moment to think about her words.

What the hell was she talking about?

What memo?

And then I had it.

The dirty message I'd written to her.

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

I was still on a high from the arrest of McIvor when I hurried into the locker room to change into my dress uniform.

I wasn't sure why the commissioner was going to insist on me being present at the press conference, but it was part of my job description, so I was going to have to suck it up and participate.

I couldn't help but smile as I thought about the look on Bobby's face when it had finally occurred to him what I meant when I mentioned the memo.

I'd been serious about that, too. His suggestion was a damn good one and there was something about making a successful bust that had me feeling very…anxious.

I couldn't wait to finish out the day at the office and then head for home.

Of course, I still had to deal with Yuille.

I was pretty sure that he'd hung Wyatt out to dry this morning. And then the complaint about Bobby, along with the comments he'd been making about me…it was time to confront him with what I knew.

I finished changing clothes and left the locker room where I nearly plowed over Yuille.

"I'm sorry, Captain," he said as he grabbed onto my arm.

"What are you doing out here?"

"I was waiting for you," he said, as though it was obvious.

"I can see that," I replied, pulling my arm from his grasp. "Why?"

"Oh, the um…the um…Captain, I've got to tell you. I'm not normally a fan of the uniform, but it really works on you."

I couldn't do anything but stare at him as he blatantly looked me over.

"Detective?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I just…we brought in the suspect on the frog case."

"And?"

"And we've got him in interrogation."

"So go interrogate him."

"I didn't know if you wanted to be there."

"I have to do a press conference," I said in annoyance. "Get started and I'll check on your progress when I'm done."

"Yes, ma'am."

He looked me head to toe a third time and then turned and went down the hall.

I was definitely going to have to do something about him.

But not now.

For the time being, I hurried downstairs and met the commissioner out front. There was already a throng of reporters waiting to take his statement and he seemed perfectly content staying in the spotlight. Which was fine. I was perfectly content to stay in the back.

"I think it's important that the people of this city know that no matter who you are or how much money you have, if you commit a crime, you _will_ be brought to justice!" he concluded. He sounded like he was making a campaign speech, and he was certainly taking all of the credit. "Politics never come into play with the NYPD. There's no favoritism. Just hard-working detectives who are out to find the truth. Thank you."

He stepped back from the podium and then turned and went inside.

Apparently, I was just window-dressing for the photo-op.

I ignored the follow-up questions from the press and instead followed him back into the building.

"Nice work, Captain," he told me distractedly as he got onto the elevator. "Pass that on to your detectives as well."

"Yes, sir."

I didn't get on the elevator with him. I'd had enough of him for the day. I checked my watch, but it was only four-thirty and I still had plenty of work to do.

I got onto the next available elevator and went back to the eleventh floor.

The squad room was buzzing with activity and I was stopped half a dozen times on the way to my office with varying questions from different detectives.

But things were feeling natural.

_This_ was how I'd thought it would be to be the captain.

I went into my office and closed the door, but I'd barely sat down before there was a knock.

"Captain, can I talk to you for a minute?"

It was Wyatt.

"I thought you and Yuille had a suspect in interrogation," I said with concern. Surely they hadn't wrapped it up already. I hadn't been gone that long. And Yuille wasn't at his desk.

"He lawyered up," he told me.

"Where's Yuille?"

"He left a few minutes ago."

"Come on in and have a seat," I told him. He came fully into the office and closed the door before walking over and sitting heavily in a chair. He leaned forward, with his arms resting on his thighs, and let out a sigh.

"This isn't me," he said, almost to himself.

"What isn't?"

"What I'm about to do."

"Okay…"

"I want to request a new partner."

"You've only been with Yuille for a month, right? Maybe you just need to give it some time for the two of you to find your rhythm."

"No, ma'am. I don't think so. It's…I don't trust him. And I need to be able to trust my partner, you know what I mean?"

"Of course," I agreed. "Tell me what's going on."

"He talks about you. Constantly."

"I've heard," I admitted with a nod. "I'm hoping it will pass."

"I don't just mean the inappropriate comments, although he does plenty of that. But he also talks about _when you get transferred_."

"When I get transferred?"

"Uh huh. I think he thinks he can make you look bad. He talks about you to other detectives, telling them that you said things that I'm sure you didn't. He tries to stir things up. And then this morning…"

"This morning he told you he'd let me know you were going to be late," I stated knowingly. "And then he didn't."

"He wanted me to get into trouble. Probably because I've been telling him to shut up about all the other stuff."

"Okay," I said with a nod. "Okay, give me this week to handle the situation. It'll either get better or I'll find you a new partner. Deal?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you. I love working in Major Case and working with Yuille was okay at first, but since you got here, he's been different and I just can't work like this."

"I appreciate your honesty. So your suspect asked for a lawyer?"

"Yeah, there's that, too."

"What about it?"

"We were talking to him and he was being agreeable and then suddenly Yuille suggested that he get a lawyer."

"Yuille told him to?"

"That's right. We'd already read him his rights and he'd waived right to counsel. But then Yuille told him that it would be a smart move for him to stop the questions and call an attorney."

Wyatt left my office a few minutes later and I sat back in my chair to ponder the latest development.

I wanted to just move Yuille out of Major Case, but was that the best move at this point? Should I be so quick to eighty-six someone just because they were having trouble adjusting to a new boss? I wasn't sure.

But I was sure about one thing.

I was going to call him into my office first thing in the morning.

"Captain, Logan and I are checking out for the day," Bobby said to me, sticking his head in through the open doorway.

"Okay. You two are on-call tonight. Everyone else is working on active cases and since you just finished yours…"

"We're up next," he finished with a smile. "That's fine. If I stay busy, it keeps me out of trouble, right?"

Since his back was to the squad room, he gave me a wink and then ducked out. As expected, it was only a minute before I got a text.

_**I'll be waiting in the garage.**_

Well, it was after five. I wasn't about to make him wait.

I locked up my office and took the elevator down to the parking garage, although this time when I got off, I was ready for him.

He was once again lurking in the darkness near the stairwell.

"There's a lot of traffic in here this time of day," I commented as I joined him in the shadows.

"And footsteps echo," he said quickly before bringing his lips to mine. He had me sandwiched between him and the wall, without an inch of space between us.

One hand worked its way to the back of my head where he started tugging on the neat bun, trying to pull it loose.

I knew he liked my hair better down, but since I was in uniform, I'd had to put it up.

Although I guess now it didn't really matter.

Without stopping our kiss, I reached back and pulled the band free. He immediately worked his fingers into the strands, grabbing hold and using the leverage to change the angle of the kiss.

He pushed his hips against me and I could feel him, hard and insistent. I ran my hands down his back and over his butt, pulling him even closer.

This was dangerous, doing this here. Very dangerous. All it would take was the wrong person walking past…but I couldn't help myself.

Today had been a gratifying and intoxicating day.

Watching Bobby walk McIvor into a corner in the interrogation room…that kind of thing had been making me hot for years. It was only recently that I actually got to act on my urges.

"We need to go home," he managed to say after several long minutes. I felt like I was burning up from the inside out and the thought of driving home was daunting.

I didn't want to drive home.

I wanted to be taken hard up against this wall.

"Are you sure?"

"I don't want to," he agreed breathlessly. "But yeah. I'm sure."

As if to cap off his point, it was at that moment that we heard footsteps.

"Shit," I muttered. "You go first."

The steps sounded a ways off, so I thought that if Bobby left now, no one would know that he'd been back here, even if I got busted. Because I needed to put my hair back where it belonged before I was spotted.

Bobby pulled his overcoat around him, buttoning it up to keep it in place and then quickly moved out towards the elevator before changing paths and walking towards the car. After a moment, I heard him call out.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, I appreciate that."

It had to be either Moran or Commissioner Zaring.

This was bad.

I quickly worked my hair back into the bun and then took a deep breath and stepped out into the garage.

"Oh, Captain Eames," Moran said. "I was just coming back up to speak with you."

He looked quizzically over my shoulder, ostensibly to figure out what I'd been doing back there, but he didn't comment.

I, on the other hand, had my heart pounding in my chest.

Why had I been so willing to risk getting caught?

Then, over top of Moran's shoulder, I caught sight of Bobby.

He was getting into the SUV, and he glanced over at me at the last second, flashing me that smile of his that just tears me up on the inside.

_He_ was why I was willing to risk it.

Is it any wonder I can't think straight sometimes when he's around?

"Eames?"

"Yes, sir," I answered quickly.

"The Hillman case?"

"I've got Jacobs and Pierson on that," I told him. "They're working on a few good leads right now and I'm pretty sure they'll be ready to make an arrest by the end of the week."

"Okay, good. I have a meeting this evening with the fire chief and I'm sure he's going to ask me about it, so I wanted an update. I caught your press conference today, by the way."

"_My_ press conference?" I questioned wryly.

"Yes, well the commissioner does love the cameras," he said with a wink. "Nice job on the McIvor case. I'm sorry that I doubted you in the beginning."

"No problem."

"Okay. Well, then, have a good night."

He turned and headed for his car so I took my time strolling to the SUV. I waited until his car had left the garage before I climbed in.

"No more making out in the parking garage," I said firmly, although I couldn't keep from smiling.

"What about in the car?" he asked me. He reached across the console and settled his hand high up on my thigh.

"Not in the car. Or at least not when it's in the garage."

But I didn't move his hand.

And I did break quite a few laws getting us home.

And then, _finally_, I got what I'd been wanting all day.

We made it into the apartment, but just barely.

I turned around to lock the door and Bobby was all over me, pushing me into the door. I could feel his whole body against mine.

He used one hand to keep my hands trapped against the door, over my head, and then with the other hand he began undoing the buttons on my jacket.

"Pretend we're still in the garage," he said in a low, husky voice. "We have to hurry before someone catches us."

He abandoned removing my jacket and instead unhooked my pants and shoved them down around my knees. He immediately ran his hands over my butt, squeezing for a moment before turning me around.

I pulled one foot from my pant leg, but left the other one in place while Bobby quickly undid the buttons on my blouse.

It's probably not something he would've done if we were _actually_ still in the parking garage, but I wasn't going to argue.

Especially not when he shoved the fabric out of the way and brought his lips down onto my skin.

I enjoyed the feeling for a moment, but then I forced my hands into action.

We were on a mission here.

I hurriedly undid his belt buckle and shoved his pants halfway down.

"Bobby," I said urgently. "Hurry."

At my encouragement, he brought his lips up to mine, kissing me just like he'd done in the garage.

I was burning with need for him.

It was a good thing Moran had showed up before or it's very possible we would've been doing this there.

"Hurry," I said again. "Before someone comes."

"You mean like me?" he said, catching me off-guard with his joke.

I burst out laughing, but as I did, he picked me up, leveraging me against the door and then he shoved hard into me.

The laughter left me, replaced by a shout of approval.

"Shhh," he whispered. "Someone will hear you."

Someone was most definitely going to hear.

We had a frenzied pace filled with grunts and groans and encouraging words, combined with the steady creaking and thumping of the front door…

"Faster," I encouraged.

"Uh huh," he agreed as he drove into me over and over again, harder and harder until I couldn't hold back any longer.

I'd hoped to wait for him, but I couldn't.

It didn't matter.

I called out his name and took him right along with me.

He continued to hold me up against the door as we each worked hard to catch our breath. I was glad he didn't set me down because I was pretty sure that my legs wouldn't hold me up.

"That settles it," he mumbled after another minute.

"Settles what?"

"We absolutely cannot do that in the parking garage."

TBC...


	17. Chapter 17

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Tuesday morning, Alex left for work ahead of me.

We didn't normally ride together on the way to work, considering we didn't want to be spotted and it was impossible to control who we might run into in the garage.

However, we did usually leave the apartment at the same time and then either Logan would pick me up or I'd ride the subway.

But Tuesday, Alex was in a hurry to get to the office. She said that she had a lot of work to do since she'd wasted a couple of hours on Monday with the commissioner and she also needed to speak with Yuille.

"I can't put it off any longer. Can you believe that he actually told a suspect to get an attorney?" she scoffed as she pulled on her jacket. "What the hell is that all about?"

"I've done that once or twice," I reminded her. I'd just gotten out of the shower, so I was standing in the foyer with a towel around my waist.

"Yeah, when the suspect was overwhelmed by circumstances," she said. "This guy is randomly killing people using frogs he had smuggled in from Columbia. There's nothing impulsive about it."

"True," I agreed.

"I think Yuille's trying to sabotage the case."

"Why would he do that?"

"I don't know. But Wyatt's had enough of him and honestly, so have I."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure yet. But I requested his personnel file, so I'm going to see if anything in it will shed some light on his motive."

I watched her as she clipped on her gun and badge and then she walked over to me.

"Don't be late," she said with a smile. "You don't want to make the boss mad."

As she said the words, she wrapped her arms around me. My skin was still hot from the shower and her cool hands felt wonderful in contrast.

"I'm going to get you wet," I warned, although I put my arms around her, too.

"I'll dry."

She held me for a minute and then gave me a kiss goodbye.

"If you don't get a case, maybe we can have lunch today," she said.

"Then tell the boss not to give me a case," I replied with a grin. She grabbed onto the edge of my towel as she stepped away, tugging gently on it.

I didn't reach for it. Instead I let it fall to the floor and I just stood and watched her as she let her eyes roam over me.

"Maybe we'll come back here for lunch," she said suggestively. "What are the odds that no one important will be killed this morning?"

"So that our sex life won't be interrupted? Pretty slim."

She finally left the apartment after taking another few pleasurable minutes to help me dry myself off a little better. I swear, the woman kept me in a near-constant state of arousal.

Of course, it was a lot like that before we got together, too. At least now I had a gratifying way in which to appease that arousal, even if I did have to wait for a lunch hour or after work.

I made it to work a few minutes before eight. I'd taken the subway this morning and I'd beaten Logan, so I went to my desk and prepared to continue working on yesterday's paperwork.

Alex was in her office with the door and blinds closed. Curious, but not unheard of. It was unlikely that it would be Moran or the commissioner. She wouldn't care about privacy for that. At least not so much as to close the blinds, too.

_Probably Yuille_, I thought. _Good, maybe she's firing him_.

And I was pretty sure that it wouldn't bother her in the least to do so, not like it had bothered her to say the words to me nearly a year ago.

"I finally figured it out."

I startled to find that Yuille had wormed his way over to stand behind my desk.

Okay, so _he_ wasn't the one in her office.

"Figured what out?" I asked him gruffly.

I wasn't really in the mood to have any kind of conversation with him, but it probably wasn't a bad idea to stay on top of whatever gossip he was spreading.

"I knew she was giving it up somewhere."

"What?"

I finally turned around to look at him, but he was staring hard at Alex's office.

"The boss. She might come across as frigid, but I knew someone as hot as her had to be hitting the sheets with someone."

I couldn't stop the sudden rush of anger. I pushed back my chair and stood up, but Yuille didn't quit watching the door.

"Did you see the guy who went in there with her? The lucky son of a bitch," he added. "She's probably on her knees right now."

"Shut up, Yuille," I said firmly.

"What?" he asked innocently, finally turning to look at me. He had a grin on his face.

"What is your problem?" I asked him as I took a step closer.

"My problem? I don't have a problem."

"Yeah, you do. And I've had enough of it. Let's get to the bottom of it right now," I said as I encroached on his space.

He took a few steps backwards, but I followed him. I noticed that the squad room suddenly got silent, but I didn't care. I'd had enough.

"Get to the bottom of what?"

"Why you keep bad-mouthing the captain," I said.

"Goren, what's going on?" Logan asked as he entered the squad room. He quickly tossed his things on his desk and then came to stand next to me.

"Yuille hasn't learned when to keep his mouth shut."

"Oh come on, Goren. I'm just messing around."

"You're being an ass," someone else said, and I glanced over to see that Wyatt had joined us. "You talk about the boss like she's a five dollar hooker instead of a police captain."

"Is that true, Yuille?" Logan said, moving closer so that he could jab at Yuille's chest with his finger. "Have you been talking about our boss like that?"

"No, I…"

"Your old partner says you do," I said loudly, now that we had a growing audience.

"Your new partner says you do, too," Wyatt added.

I hadn't planned for this to go down this morning, but it was working out better than I'd expected.

When I'd mentioned to Logan that I couldn't say anything to Yuille, he'd insisted that the whole squad would back me up.

It wouldn't make me look suspicious. It would make me look like a loyal employee who was looking out for the boss.

Which I am.

Even if I weren't in love with her, I wouldn't put up with the derogatory comments that Yuille insisted on making.

And it seemed like Logan was right. We had every detective in the squad room gathering to see what was going to happen next and no one was standing up for Yuille.

"You're going to hang me out to dry?" Yuille asked Wyatt. "You're supposed to be my partner."

"Not for much longer, I hope."

"We've all heard you," Jacobs spoke up. "And we've all seen the way you look at her. I just hope she catches you one of these days so we can watch her kick your ass."

"Hey, I'm not saying anything that isn't already on the minds of everyone in this room," he insisted. He gave Jacobs a slow once over and said, "Okay, maybe not everyone." Then he grinned at her and added, "Or maybe everyone. You got a thing for the boss, too, Jacobs?"

"Maybe I won't wait for her to catch you," Jacobs retorted. "Maybe I'll just kick your ass myself. It'll be worth the suspension."

"Or we can all do it. They can't suspend all of us, can they?" Meeks said.

"Wait, this is getting out of hand," Yuille said quickly. "I don't mean anything by it. It's just…you know. Guy talk."

"It's insulting and disrespectful and obnoxious," Logan said.

"That's right," I agreed. "And I bet the captain will consider transferring you out if all of us sign a petition to get rid of you."

"You two are the new guys here," Yuille fired back. "If anyone's transferring, it'll be you."

"New?" Logan said with a laugh. "We were in Major Case when you were still walking a beat."

"Not only that, but you've only been here a month," Granger said. "_You're_ the new guy. And I'm guessing that Goren's right. If we tell the captain that you're not fitting in…"

"So this is what I get from my department, is that it? Everyone's gonna side with the brass?"

"Yes," I said, unable to resist inching a little closer.

Logan was already all over him, so I wasn't too worried about anyone misinterpreting my stake in the matter.

Or rather, _correctly_ interpreting my stake.

But still…

"That's exactly how it's going to be."

"Maybe if you'd worry more about solving our case than what the boss is wearing," Wyatt added.

"I am solving our case," Yuille shot back. "While you were sitting home playing nursemaid, I was narrowing our suspect field. Don't try to take credit for that arrest, Wyatt. We brought that guy in because of my hard work."

"And he lawyered up because of your big mouth," I added.

Yuille looked at me curiously and so did Wyatt and then it occurred to me that maybe I wasn't supposed to know that piece of information.

I started to have a moment of panic, but then Logan said, "Yeah, that's what I heard, too. Is that what happened, Wyatt?"

"We had him on the ropes and Yuille told him to call his attorney," Wyatt stated, focusing again on Yuille. It seemed as though he was relieved to be getting everything off of his chest.

"So you're not just talking bad about Captain Eames," Jacob stated. "You're trying to make her look bad, too. You're going to blow the solve rate of the whole department."

"What's going on out here? Don't you guys have work to do?"

I hadn't even heard the door to Alex's office come open, but suddenly there she was, looking extremely ticked off.

"Yes, ma'am," was the overwhelming response. Logan paused another moment before stepping aside to let Yuille pass. He immediately headed for the men's room.

"Goren, Logan. My office," she said briskly.

"Captain," Wyatt called out. I turned back to find several other detectives standing hesitantly in the room.

"What is it?"

"This…thing that was…going on…it wasn't their fault," Jacobs said.

"Whose fault?"

"Goren and Logan. It wasn't just them. It was all of us."

Alex looked at her curiously, and then glanced around at the others, and it must have hit her at the same time that it hit me.

They thought she was calling us in because we were in trouble.

And yet they were all standing up for us.

"This is another matter," Alex said after a moment. "But thank you for your honesty."

She turned and led the way into her office. Logan looked at me questioningly but I just shrugged and followed Alex.

Once we were inside, she shut the door.

That was when I noticed the other person in the room.

Suddenly the closed blinds made perfect sense, although now I was more curious than ever.

But before I could comment, Alex said, "You two are trying to do my job for me?"

"No," Logan said quickly. "We were just…"

"…coming to an understanding," I finished.

"An understanding," she stated with a nod. "With Yuille?"

"Yes, ma'am," Logan replied.

"And did you?"

"He knows that he's the lone ranger," I told her, still looking at our guest. "He's trying to draw a line in the sand, but he found out that he's all alone on his side."

She sighed heavily and shook her head.

"Okay. We'll come back to that," she said. Then she looked up and said, "It's obvious that we have a more pressing issue."

"I'd say it's good to see you, Agent," I remarked as I held out my hand. "But that would be a lie."

"Detective Goren," Banta replied. "And here I thought we'd parted on good terms."

"Agent Banta, meet Detective Logan," Alex said.

"Agent Banta," Logan repeated, looking at Alex and completely ignoring Banta. "As in…a prime suspect as the mole who caused Captain Ross' murder?"

"A suspect who was cleared," Banta clarified. "We've put that mess behind us. Surely you have, too."

"What does he want?" I asked Alex.

"He has a proposition for us," she said as she circled around to sit down behind her desk.

Banta took a seat as well, but Logan and I remained standing.

I didn't like the idea of the word _proposition_ being used in context with Banta and Alex, but that was probably just me being a boyfriend again.

It wasn't easy to forget that Banta had made a play for Alex, especially now that we knew he was innocent of selling out Ross, which that meant that his come-on had been for real and not as a means of maneuvering.

He'd likened me to being the same song, playing over and over.

For some reason, that really bugged me.

I couldn't help but glare at him as he sat casually in the chair.

"What kind of proposition?" Logan finally asked.

"Hassan is back," Banta said. "He's in New York. He has a shipment of weapons coming to him that he plans to pass off to another terrorist organization."

"Okay," I said carefully. I had no idea where he was going with this. "So if you know this, then why haven't you brought him in?"

"We want to catch him making the buy," he explained.

"Good for you. I'm sure the Bureau will give you a commendation or something," Logan said smartly.

"Let me clarify that," Banta said. "We want _you_ to catch him making the buy."

I made eye contact with Alex and she gave me a slow nod.

"SAC Casteel wants to make this a joint FBI-NYPD sting," she said.

"Why?"

"Do you want the party line or the real reason?" Banta asked with a cynical smile.

"Both."

"A joint operation will help us be sure that we've got all of our bases covered. You've worked this case. You know Hassan. Our team, the one who previously worked this case, is still reeling from what happened with Stahl and Beemer. We're not at full capacity."

"So what's the real reason?" I asked.

"Casteel will never admit it, but he wants you two back. He seems to think that taking out a guy like Hassan will help you realize how much more of an impact you can make by working with the FBI. There are international ramifications."

"Assuming we say yes," I replied. "What is it that you want us to do? Hassan knows who I am."

"I know. Alex and I discussed your involvement at length and I think we've come up with the perfect strategy to bring down Hassan."

"Which is what?" I asked, doing my best to ignore the jealousy that flooded through me at his use of Alex's first name.

Banta looked over at her, signaling for her to take over the conversation.

"This is completely voluntary," she said carefully. "Either or both of you can say no and Agent Banta will be on his way. It will in no way affect your standing in the NYPD."

"Okay," Logan said, looking nervously at me.

"It's dangerous," she continued. "Very dangerous."

"We have the weapons dealer in custody. We want Logan to take his place," Banta blurted out. "Hassan's never seen him. Goren, you'll be his eyes and ears and the go-between for him and the Bureau. You'll be watching his back. It'll be a quick in and out. Logan hands over the weapons and Hassan hands over the money. The feds will rush in to make the arrest. End of story."

"Or not end of story," I said. "If you guys blow this and Hassan pegs Logan as a plant, he'll be on the hit list."

"We won't blow it. And he won't get made. You'll be there with us," he told me. "You'll arrest Logan to make it look good to Hassan. He'll never know the difference."

"I'm not sure I like this," I said.

I mean, I wanted to Hassan, but not like this.

"Come on, Goren. I thought you had a set on you."

"Can you excuse us for a minute?" I said to him in annoyance.

"That's a good idea," Alex said as she stood up from her chair. "Agent, I'll get back with you and let you know our decision."

"I need to know soon. By the end of the day. If it's going to happen, it has to happen fast. The meet was scheduled for Thursday, and if we change it, it might tip him off."

"Okay," she agreed, shaking his hand.

"It was great seeing you again," he told her, still holding onto her hand. She pulled it from his grasp and walked around to stand next to me.

"Thank you for coming by. I'll be in touch," she told him.

Once he left the office, she let out a heavy sigh.

"That was unexpected."

"There's something more going on here, isn't there?" Logan asked. "The feds don't just ask for help from the NYPD."

"I think Banta was telling the truth when he said Casteel wants us back."

"What does Moran say?" I asked her.

"It's up to us," she replied. "He said he'd be behind us, whatever the decision. Although I think he's hoping we'll do it. It'll be another bust that can be claimed by the department."

"What do you think?"

"I think that...I'd really love to see Hassan go down," she admitted. "But I'm not sure if this is the best way to do it."

"He ordered Ross to be killed, right?" Logan asked.

"Yeah, after Stahl outted him."

"We know more about Hassan than almost anyone," I said quietly. "I think we could make this work. But Logan…it's a huge risk. If you say no, then we're out, and we're okay with that, right Eames?"

"Absolutely. It has to be your decision. Bobby and I will be working with you, but only behind the scenes. You'll be the one Hassan sees. You'll be the one with the bulk of the risk."

"Okay," he said with a slow nod. "Okay, let's do it."

"Why don't you think about it for a little while?" Alex suggested. "We don't have long, but you can definitely give it some thought. I don't want you to feel pressured just because we're standing here."

"I don't," he insisted. "And I don't need to think about it. I'm in."

"Bobby?" Alex asked me.

"Of course I'm in."

"Okay. I'll keep your case load clear. Finish the McIvor paperwork and I'll get with Banta and find out where they want to set up for a briefing. As soon as I know something, I'll let you know."

"Thanks, Captain," Logan said and then he headed for the door. He always liked to leave without waiting for me and I had a feeling it was so that I could have a few brief seconds alone with Alex.

So he left the door open and I lingered for a moment.

"This will be the last piece," she said. "If we catch Hassan, then we'll have everyone involved in Ross' murder."

"I don't like dangling Logan as bait."

"I don't either, but it's his decision. We'll just have to make sure we have his back."

"We?"

"We," she said firmly. "I'm working it with you."

TBC...


	18. Chapter 18

**Logan POV**

* * *

"So what's the deal with that guy Banta?" I asked Goren as we sat at our desks.

Paperwork had gotten tiresome more than an hour ago and I was itching for something to do.

Of course, Eames wasn't going to give us a case. Not when we had this fed thing pending.

And the briefing wasn't going to be until later, so until then, we were squad room bound.

"Which version do you want?" he replied without looking up.

I glanced around and saw that no one was within earshot.

"He made a play for Eames, didn't he?" I asked quietly.

"Yeah, but it's not just that," he admitted. He sat back in his chair and tossed his pen onto the desk. "I don't trust him."

"You think he's involved somehow?"

"No," he said as he let out a frustrated breath. "We found no evidence to support that he was involved. It appears as though Stahl worked alone in her snitch capacity."

"Then what's bugging you?"

"You're going to be a sitting duck," he told me. "And I've seen these guys' handiwork first hand. It's not pretty."

"You don't think the feds will have my back?"

"I'm not trusting anyone to do that except me. And Eames."

"She's going to work it with us?"

"Yeah," he said, finally smiling a little bit. "For some reason, she wants to make sure you come out of this intact."

"She likes me," I said with a grin. "Can you blame her?"

My phone buzzed so I pulled it from my belt.

It was a text from Liz.

I'd sent her a message earlier to let her know that things might get kind of busy over the next couple of nights.

I didn't want her to read too much into it if for some reason I didn't show at her place, but I had no idea what kind of prep work the feds would want to do, or what kind of hours we'd be working.

Of course, I also didn't want to get into details about anything.

_**Lunch? Or was that a brush-off?**_

She thought I was blowing her off?

That was unacceptable.

I glanced at the clock. Nearly eleven-thirty.

"Do you mind if I knock off a little early for lunch?" I asked Goren.

"Sure. We're just about done anyway. I'll meet you back here at one and maybe by then we'll have word from Banta on the next step."

So I texted back.

_**Definitely not a brush-off. I can leave right now and meet you for lunch. **_

It only took a minute to get her response.

_**My place.**_

We hadn't met in the middle of the day yet.

Of course, we'd only been involved in this illicit affair for a week.

And illicit really isn't the right word.

We weren't hurting anyone and there was nothing remotely wrong with what we were doing.

Secret affair was maybe a better description.

But so this would be the first time for us to meet in private during the work day.

Which meant that I had to analyze it to death all the way to her place.

And then I analyzed _that_ – the fact that I cared so much.

It was ten minutes before twelve when I knocked on her door. I quickly did the math and decided that if I left here by twelve-forty, I could make it back to 1PP by one o'clock.

I didn't want to be late, not when we were hopefully going to meet with the feds. And also not because I seemed to be on good terms with Eames again, as my boss, and I didn't want to blow that.

"You don't have to knock," Liz said when she opened the door.

"You want me to just walk in?"

"When I'm expecting you? Yes," she said, tugging on my arm and pulling me into the house. "I have to leave in forty-five minutes."

"Well then we'd better hurry. What did you fix?"

"Fix?"

"For lunch," I joked. It might have worked better if I'd been able to keep from smiling, but I couldn't help it.

"You know damn well I didn't call you over here so that I could make you a sandwich," she retorted as she pulled on my tie, jerking on it to loosen the knot.

"Is that all I am to you? I feel so used," I teased, although I liked that she was being bossy. By this point, she'd pushed me down onto the couch and was working to undo the buttons on my shirt.

"You wouldn't have known what to do if you'd come in and I had food on the table," she answered. "But if you're good, I'll let you take the leftover pizza with you. You can eat it in the car."

I was good.

But I was also fairly quick. I couldn't help it.

Sometimes she just does things to me.

So after we dressed and smoked our cigarettes, we sat together at the kitchen table, each of us working on a slice of cold pizza.

"So what's going on with you tonight?" she asked me.

"I don't know yet. Maybe nothing."

"Oh," she said quietly. "You know, you don't have to feel any kind of obligation. I mean, we jumped into this thing pretty quickly and if you think it's run its course, then…"

"No, that's not it," I said quickly.

I suddenly really didn't want her to even say the words.

I didn't want her to say that we could quit seeing each other because I very much wanted us to _keep_ seeing each other.

Not only that, but I didn't want her to be okay with it if we didn't.

I wanted her to _want_ it.

"Okay," she said slowly. "I just thought that maybe you had the offer of a date or something and I know what we're doing isn't…"

"Liz. Stop. I might be busy over the next couple of nights because I'm going to be working on…on…something."

I didn't want to say it because I didn't want her to worry. I'd be doing nearly the same thing that Ross had been doing when he was killed.

And I know that they hadn't been dating when he died, but still…it would be much too close of a repeat scenario.

She continued to watch me, obviously waiting for a better explanation, and I finally let out a heavy sigh.

We might not be in a relationship, but we were honest with each other. That was one of the things I really liked about her. She was always up-front with me.

And so far, I think the only thing I'd fibbed about to her was Goren and Eames' relationship, and I'm not really sure that counts as a lie.

So I couldn't let her down now. I had to come clean.

"This is confidential," I began and then when she nodded, I continued. "The FBI wants us to help them take down Hassan."

"Hassan. He's the…" she said unsteadily before trailing off without finishing.

But I knew she knew who he was.

"Uh huh. The feds nabbed a weapons dealer who has a meeting with Hassan on Thursday. I'm going to…they want me to…"

I tossed my half-eaten slice of pizza back into the box, my appetite having suddenly vanished.

"You're going to take his place," she said carefully.

"Yes. Goren and Eames will be there, and of course a slew of feds, but…yeah. I'm going to sell him the guns so that the feds can catch him."

She put the rest of her piece back in the box, too, and got up from the table.

"I think I would've rather it been a woman," she said as she reached for her shoes. She grabbed them and went down the hall to the bedroom.

"Liz," I called out as I went after her.

I'd thought she might be upset, but not _this_ upset.

"It's fine," she replied. She sat on the bed and put on her shoes and then got up to check herself in the mirror. She hadn't made eye contact with me since I'd given her my news.

"It's not fine," I said as I stepped up behind her. "If you don't want me to do this…"

"Then what?" she asked smartly. "You won't? That's not how we work, Logan, and you know it. We…keep each other from being too lonely. That's it. What you do at work is your business."

She tried to pull away from me, but I wasn't ready to let her go.

"So I'm making it your business," I insisted. "Do you want me to tell them no?"

"I'm not making that decision for you."

"Liz, look at me," I said firmly. She finally brought her eyes to mine through the reflection in the mirror. "I'm doing this to put that whole thing to bed. This guy…Hassan. He's the last one still out there who's responsible for Ross. Don't you want me to catch him?"

She stared at me for a long time and then looked skyward briefly before finally turning in my arms.

"I don't want you to end up like Danny," she admitted softly.

"That's not going to happen," I promised, although I had no business making such a promise.

"I'm sure that's what he thought, too."

"Liz…he went in with no back-up, except for the dirty agent watching his back. I'll have Goren and Eames. It doesn't get better than that."

"I know," she said as she rested her head on my shoulder.

"So…"

"So what? You're still waiting for my okay?"

"I want to know that you understand why I'm doing it. And I don't want it to come between us."

"We're both going to be late," she deflected as she pulled away from my embrace.

This time, I let her go as she gathered her things and turned off the lights. I slowly headed for the foyer where I'd left my hardware.

As I clipped my gun back into place, she finally joined me.

"So you have a meeting tonight?"

"I think so. Actually, I think we'll be meeting this afternoon. I just wasn't sure how long it would last."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Come over when you're done," she said. "If you can."

"I don't know what time…"

"I know. But if you want to…"

"I want to," I assured her.

"Good. I'll see you later then."

She reached for the door knob, but I stopped her as I leaned down to kiss her goodbye.

"Does this mean you understand?" I asked. And maybe I shouldn't have pushed it, but for some reason it was really important to me that I had her blessing.

"I do," she agreed. "I don't like it. But I understand it. Just…be careful."

"I will."

I kissed her one more time and then moved out of the way so she could open the door.

If anyone we knew ever walked down her street, we'd be busted since we didn't bother to exit her home at different times, but I honestly didn't care.

Like I said, maybe it was a secret, but it wasn't illegal or immoral or even against departmental regulations.

We were was just two people enjoying each other's company.

"You thought I had a date," I said, forcing out a chuckle. I didn't want to leave her in a dark mood. "Who would ask me out on a date? And not only that, but who could it possibly be that would entice me away from you?"

She ducked her head, but not quickly enough to keep me from seeing the smile.

"Always the charmer," she replied. "And you know…that's not all you are to me."

I raised an eyebrow at her, unsure of what she was talking about, so she continued.

"Earlier. You said that you felt used."

"I was kidding," I said quickly.

"I know. But make no mistake. There's so much more to you than that."

If we weren't standing out on the sidewalk, I would've probably kissed her again.

And then I decided, what the hell?

So I grabbed her face with both of my hands and kissed her so passionately that I was nearly ready to drag her back inside of the house again.

But I couldn't. And she couldn't.

So I finally faced reality and let her go.

"I think that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," I told her. "I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"If you can't make it, it's alright. Just text me or something."

"I'll make it."

TBC...


	19. Chapter 19

**Alex POV**

* * *

I'd been surprised to find Agent Banta lurking in the lobby of 1PP this morning, but for the most part, he'd been professional.

And despite my concerns about the danger involved with the sting, I was excited about the prospect of finally catching Hassan.

He was a loose end, and I hated loose ends.

Using Logan as bait had been my idea.

Banta had been open to suggestions, but he'd been set on one thing.

He wanted Bobby and me to work the case with his team.

We'd certainly made a name for ourselves at the Bureau and I didn't blame him for asking for our help. Hassan would be a huge bust and it would help his struggling team get back onto its feet.

Considering the amount of time Bobby and I had spent researching Hassan and everyone with whom he came into contact, it made sense that we were the best qualified to assist on the case.

And since I would be dangling a good friend in front of a killer, I was most definitely going to be involved. I wasn't about to let anything happen to him.

Moran had been amenable.

"I trust your judgment," he'd said simply.

I wanted to ask him _since when_, but I held back. That would've probably been a little harsh.

And to his credit, he had backed off. He was letting me do my job now with very little interference.

After Bobby and Logan left my office, I called Moran to let him know that we'd decided to work the case.

"I'll probably be in and out for the next few days," I told him.

"This will be happening on Thursday?"

"Yes sir. I'm not sure how much of my time will be required between now and then."

"Take what you need and get this guy."

"That's the plan."

"So everything else is going okay? How are your detectives working out?"

"Very well, actually," I said, although I mentally supplied _with the exception of one._

"Okay, well you let me know if there's anything I can do."

I hung up with him and watched through my windows as Yuille entered the squad room.

I couldn't decide what to do with him.

He was disrupting the camaraderie of the department, but I still thought he was a good detective.

I opened up his file that had been brought to my office earlier this morning.

He'd been in the 6-8 for ten years before applying for and being accepted into Major Case.

His record there was exemplary. He'd been partnered with the same man for more than eight years.

His solve rate was high.

_Not Goren and Eames high_, I thought with a smirk.

But still good.

The letter of instruction that Captain Callas had left for me made no mention of Yuille.

She'd said that Detective Jacobs had issues taking orders from a woman, but I hadn't seen any sign of that. As far as I was concerned, Jacobs was an excellent detective.

But considering Callas had taken the time to write about Jacobs, wouldn't she have mentioned Yuille, if he'd been a problem?

Most likely, yes. Which meant that he _hadn't_ been a problem.

So maybe he just had a problem with me.

I closed the file and got up from my desk.

I was tired of thinking about it. It was time to take action.

"Detective Yuille, can I see you for a minute?" I called out.

I stood in the doorway and waited as he got up from his desk and walked over to my office. I didn't have to look around the room to know that everyone was watching.

Yuille didn't make eye contact with me, but instead kept his gaze focused on the floor as he entered the room. I closed the door and motioned for him to sit down, but instead of going behind my desk, I sat on the front of it.

I wanted to be approachable.

I wanted to know the truth about what was going on and why.

"Am I done?" he asked after a moment.

"Done? We haven't even started."

"I mean, am I fired?"

I looked at him in confusion. He _knew_ what he'd been doing was wrong and he seemed resigned to his fate. So why had he been doing it?

"Is that what you want?"

"What? No! Why would I want to get fired?"

"You tell me."

"I don't," he insisted. "I just figured that's what was coming."

"Yuille, talk to me. I've looked over your jacket. You've never been in any kind of trouble before. You've never been reprimanded."

"I'm not sure what you want me to say," he said dejectedly, dropping his eyes again to the floor.

"Well, I did interrupt a little bit of jailhouse justice out in that squad room this morning. Why don't you start by telling me what prompted it?"

"It was my fault. None of them need to get into trouble over it. I had it coming."

_No kidding_, I thought.

But I didn't say it.

I couldn't afford to be a smartass with him and risk alienating him. The fact that he was willing to shoulder the blame for the incident was very telling.

If he was the jerk he appeared to be, he would've been pointing fingers like crazy.

"Yuille," I said firmly when he fell silent again. "I'm a really good detective, but even I need a clue every now and again. Tell me what's going on."

"I can't."

"Do you have a problem with me being your boss?"

"No ma'am."

"So it's me personally. Because I'm not usually self-centered, but I'm pretty sure this has _something_ to do with me. And if it's not because I'm your captain, then it must be personal."

He rubbed his hand over his face, but remained quiet.

"You know Wyatt asked for a new partner," I said, hoping to prompt a response.

"Well, I'm pretty sure the whole department is going to ask you to move me out of Major Case, so that's probably moot."

The whole department? I was going to have to get details from Bobby on what had gone down this morning while I'd been behind closed doors with Banta.

"Do you want to leave Major Case? You've only been here a month. Is it not what you expected? There's no shame in requesting a transfer if it's not for you."

He finally brought his eyes to mine again, slowly shaking his head as he thought about what he wanted to say.

"I love Major Case," he said at last.

"Okay. Good, so you don't want to leave. Now we're getting somewhere."

"You don't get it. I'm…I feel like I'm…sleeping with the enemy here."

"By working in this department?"

"By talking to you. And it's not even…you're not the…okay, I'm going to come clean and maybe I shouldn't. No, actually I _know_ I shouldn't, but I just can't do this any more."

"I'm listening."

"Please know that it wasn't my idea. I mean, I know it's my fault and that I have to take responsibility for my actions, but…"

"Just say it."

"This stays between us?"

"Yes."

"No matter what?"

"Did you commit a felony?" I questioned. He smiled briefly and shook his head. "Then yes, no matter what," I promised.

"Moran asked me to give you a hard time. He wanted to see how you handled difficult situations."

I like to think of myself as insightful, but that was about the last thing in the world I'd been expecting him to say.

"Moran…asked you to…sexually harass me?"

He had the decency to blush at my acknowledgement of what he'd been saying behind my back.

"You've heard…I'm sorry. I'm really, _really_ sorry. And no, that wasn't him. See, the chief and I aren't friends, but we're related…sort of. In a backwards kind of way. Anyway, I've known him in social situations for years. When I got the nod to start working here, he told me that he was anticipating a leadership shake-up. He said he didn't know who the new captain was going to be, but that he wanted me to be problematic."

"Okay," I said slowly, still absorbing the information.

"And none of what I've done was at his suggestion," he added quickly. "He wanted me to come in late, or not do paperwork, or miss meetings. Things like that."

"But you haven't done any of that."

"I know. This is where it gets complicated. You promised, right? This stays here?"

"Yes."

He took a deep breath and then plowed ahead.

"Captain Christy Alonzo, at the 6-8, she's my…we're living together. Although I'm not sure how much longer that's going to last."

"She wanted this job," I stated.

"Yes. And when she didn't get it, she assumed it was because she was a woman. And then when _you_ got it, well…you can imagine how that made her feel. She already knew that Moran had tasked me to be the test for the new captain, so she suggested that I make things even harder for you. She was hoping that if you were unsuccessful in the office…"

"Then Moran would move me out and give her a shot."

"Right. She was so sure that you didn't deserve to be here. And then after the other day when you knocked her down a peg, well...she got really insistent that I come at you with everything I could."

"So you said those things about me in an effort to make the other detectives lose their respect for me. And you sandbagged your case…"

"Yes ma'am."

"And you're admitting it all now because…"

"Because I can't do it any more. It's not who I am. I go home every night and listen to her talk about you and I think about the things I said during the day…and I can barely look at myself in the mirror. This morning, seeing how everyone jumped to your defense, it finally hit me that Christy was wrong. And I know, I should've known from the beginning that she was wrong. I mean, I _did _know it was wrong, but...Captain, every one in the department would lay down and die for you, and yet you've only been running things for a week. You definitely deserve to be here."

"And yet I have to wonder if now you're just sucking up to keep your job," I mused. "How am I supposed to trust you?"

"You can't," he agreed. "So I guess you need to ship me off somewhere else. Just please…not to the 6-8. She'll make my life a living hell."

He held my gaze as he waited to hear my verdict.

The thing was, I wasn't sure what to say.

I was a little annoyed that Moran had attempted to test me like that, and yet if Yuille had only done what he'd been asked, it would've been manageable. And I could understand Moran's motivation, considering I had no real managerial experience.

So Alonzo had wanted Major Case and yet her boyfriend was the only one who got the nod. That must have really sent her off the deep end.

I almost felt sorry for Yuille. They were living together. I'd assumed that meant they were in love, but she couldn't love him if she wanted him to risk sabotaging his own career for the possibility of bettering her own.

Although I had a feeling that he realized that now.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do," I said at last. "I asked Wyatt to give you until the end of the week before officially requesting a new partner. He agreed. I want you to continue working with him. I want you to apologize for hanging him out to dry yesterday. And on Friday, the three of us will meet again and see where we are. And in the mean time, solve this damn frog case. You made the mess, so I'm going to expect you to clean it up. Are we clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said hesitantly. "So…you're not going to get rid of me? Even knowing the things that I said?"

"No. But you're going to have your work cut out for you if you want to earn the respect of your colleagues. And if I catch wind of one more inappropriate comment from you, then I'll write you up for harassment and sign your transfer papers."

"That won't happen," he assured me quickly.

"Good," I said as I got up from the desk.

"And you're not going to say anything to Moran?"

"I don't see the point in that. You don't even have to tell Alonzo about this if you don't want to. You can just let her think that your experiment failed," I told him. I was going to let it go at that, but I couldn't. His personal life wasn't my business, but he really did seem like a decent guy. "But Yuille…she should've never asked you to do that in the first place. You could've gotten fired. You're the one whose come out looking like a jerk from all of this. She knows that and yet she asked you to do it anyway."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you," he said, reaching out to shake my hand. "I won't let you down."

"Be sure that you don't."

After Yuille left my office, I sat down to call Banta.

"We're in," I told him when he answered.

"I never had a doubt," he interrupted. "How soon can we meet?"

"I wasn't finished. We're in on one condition. Tell me who's on your team," I said. "I don't want a repeat of Stahl."

"I'm going to try not to be offended by that."

"Be offended all you want," I replied. "But I'm going to exercise every precaution."

"Rivas, Bourque, Workman," he answered. "McHale and myself."

"Who of them know that you've come to us?"

"No one. Casteel is the only other person in the know. I didn't want to discuss it with them until I knew you were on board."

"Okay, then you're going to make a couple of changes."

"You're going to tell me who's on my team?" he asked somewhat arrogantly.

He'd only been in charge of the team for the past month, since Stahl died, but as he'd mentioned to me many times, he was born to be in charge.

And he obviously didn't care for my bargaining tactics, but I didn't care.

"If you want our help, then yes. This is non-negotiable."

"Okay," he said after a brief pause. "Okay, who do you want?"

"McHale. And bring in Lacey. And you. That's it."

"What's wrong with the others?"

"I don't know them enough to trust them. You wouldn't even be on my short list if you weren't in charge."

"Fine," he agreed. "I'll make it happen."

"And if we get there on Thursday and things don't feel right, I'm pulling the plug. No questions asked, okay? I want Hassan, but not at Logan's expense."

"Okay. Give me a chance to get back to the federal building and discuss the changes with Casteel."

"We're not coming there," I told him. "Logan can't be seen anywhere near the federal building."

"Have a little bit of faith in me, Alex."

"It's Eames," I corrected.

"Okay, Eames. The Bureau holds an executive suite in the New York Palace. Room 1225. Meet us there at two-thirty."

I hung up with him and sighed heavily.

It was back to cloak and daggers.

But first, I had work to do. If I was going to be in and out of the office for the next few days, I needed to do what I could to make sure things went smoothly.

After a couple of hours, my cell phone buzzed.

_**I think you said something about lunch at home if no cases came up… **_

I looked through the windows and saw that Logan was heading for the elevator. He seemed in a hurry and I wondered idly where he was off to.

But thoughts of him only distracted me for a moment.

I typed my reply to Bobby.

_**You leave first. I'll be right behind you.**_

TBC...


	20. Chapter 20

**Bobby POV**

* * *

"We need to find a place closer to work," I remarked.

"We don't have to be back until one. That gives us a little more than an hour," she said as I unlocked the apartment door. Then she smiled at me and added, "How much time do you need?"

And see, that smile gets me every time.

Some nights, back when I was still alone, I'd think of her smile and I would physically hurt from wanting her so much.

Not just sexually, but wanting her _in my life._

Wanting to see that smile on a regular basis.

And now I did. I had her in my life and I saw the smile quite a bit and yet I still always wanted more.

"An hour is no where near long enough for what I want to do to you," I replied as I pulled her into the apartment.

I quickly closed the door behind us and put my gun on the table.

"So maybe we'll be a few minutes late," she offered.

"Honey, I'm going to need a lifetime to even come close," I said in a low voice. I pulled off my jacket as I advanced on her, fully focused on getting her right where I wanted.

"You have me for a lifetime," she answered. "It just might be in hour-long increments."

"I'd better make the most of it then," I said, reaching for her blouse. I didn't waste time undoing the buttons.

Instead, I pulled it open.

I couldn't help myself.

I was already painfully hard and she just looked so enticing.

"I'm sorry," I said unrepentantly as I pulled the fabric from her arms. "I'll buy you a new one."

"Do I look upset to you?" she asked as we worked together to get her out of her slacks.

"You look…" I began, pausing when I finally had her naked in front of me. "So incredibly beautiful."

"And you look over-dressed," she replied, deflecting my compliment as she reached for my belt.

"Wait," I said, putting my hands over hers for a moment. "I just want to look at you."

"We only have an hour," she reminded me with a smirk.

But she humored me, keeping her hands still while I trailed my fingers lightly over her skin, drinking in the sight of her.

"Minutes well spent," I told her as I moved my hands up into her hair.

I tilted her face up towards mine and kissed her slowly, letting the need build even more.

She let out a contented sigh when I pushed her hair back from her shoulder and began kissing the side of her neck.

"I love the way you do that," she said quietly.

"What else do you like?" I asked as I picked her up and carried her into the living room.

I set her down on the couch and then I began unbuckling my belt. Her gaze was focused on my progress so I let her off the hook of answering my question. It was mostly rhetorical anyway.

I like to think I know exactly what she likes.

"Let me help you with that," she said, getting up from the couch and slipping her hands into the back of my undone pants.

She pushed them down slowly and then ran her fingers back up my legs so that she could grab onto my boxers, lowering them as though she was doing it for the first time.

For two people who were supposed to be in a hurry, we were anything but.

She urged me to sit on the couch and then she eased onto my lap, but instead of taking me in, she leaned over and kissed me.

"I love the way you do everything else," she said quietly when she pulled away.

"Everything?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Okay, maybe not everything," she replied with a smirk. "But this probably isn't the best time to get into that."

"Ha ha," I retorted, and then I grabbed onto her and shifted us so that she was on her back and I was…exactly where I wanted to be.

She let out a sound of approval at our change in positions and then another one when I pushed into her. She ran her hands down my back and then clasped onto my butt, pulling me even closer to her.

I lost all track of time as we moved together at an unhurried pace. I kissed her lips, her forehead, her eyelids…everywhere I could reach. And when I couldn't hold out for another minute, I settled my whole body against hers and buried my face in the crook of her neck.

There was no screaming of names or calling to God this time, but instead the exhaling of a long, satisfied breath.

It was several minutes before I could even think about moving, and when I did, she held onto me tighter, holding me in place.

"Not yet," she murmured.

"I don't know what time it is."

"I don't either. But what are they going to do? Start without us?"

"True," I agreed as I relaxed against her again.

"Just a few more minutes," she said as she trailed her fingers up and down my back in a soothing pattern.

"You don't expect me to argue, do you?"

"No," she said, and I could feel her smiling.

We lay quietly together for the requested few minutes and then she let me go.

"We might still make it," I remarked as I glanced at my watch. "If we hurry."

It was twenty minutes before one and it would take nearly fifteen to drive back to 1PP.

"It was my idea to use Logan," she said as I held out my hand to help her up off of the couch. "Is it a mistake?"

"No," I answered.

"I handpicked Banta's team," she continued. She pulled on her pants and then went in search of her blouse. I watched her as she held it up for me to see that I'd popped a few of the buttons.

I grinned at her sheepishly, but she just shook her head and tossed the garment onto the couch.

"Do you think anyone will notice that I changed clothes in the middle of the day?" she asked as she went down the hall to the bedroom.

"Probably," I admitted. "Although we won't be at 1PP for long, so maybe not. You handpicked the team?"

"McHale and Lacey. And Banta, of course."

"That's good," I agreed. "He didn't have a problem with it?"

"Not really," she replied. She came back out of the bedroom, this time in a blue blouse instead of the white one that was damaged. She picked up her jacket from the floor and slipped it on. "But I still don't trust him. Do you?"

"No. Although I don't really have a good reason not to, other than we considered him a suspect. And we considered McHale and Lacey as suspects, too, but yet I trust them. So I'm not sure."

She came to a stop in front of me and took over the task of tying my tie.

"I know," she said. "I feel the same way. So we'll have to keep a close eye on everyone."

She slid the knot into place and then smoothed her hands down the front of the tie before wrapping her arms around my waist.

"Thank you. This was the perfect lunch break."

"We didn't eat," I reminded her.

"Who needs food?"

I ran my hand over her hair, corralling the few stray strands that had gotten out of place during our interlude.

"We'll get something on the way to the Palace," I told her. She stepped away from me and got her gun from the table. I grabbed mine, too, and we made it out the door by twelve forty-five.

"And have to explain to Logan why we didn't eat? I don't think so."

"I bet he'll be hungry, too," I told her.

"He left at eleven-thirty," she replied. "You think he didn't have time to eat?"

"I'm telling you. He's got something going on. He got a text message this morning and he was out of there like a shot."

"And he won't tell you who it is?"

"Nope. But that doesn't mean I won't figure it out," I said with a grin. We climbed into the car and headed back to work.

"So tell me what happened with Yuille," I said as she drove.

"No, you tell me what happened. You guys were ready to give him a beat-down this morning."

"He…made a comment about why you had your blinds closed in your office," I told her.

"I'm sure that went over well with you."

"I'd had enough," I admitted. "And apparently so had everyone else."

"Well, I think you'll see a whole new side of him."

"Why? What did you say to him?"

"I got to the bottom of it," she said vaguely. "And he's seen the error of his ways, so I gave him one more chance. If he slips again, he's gone."

"You're not going to tell me?"

"No," she said, casting a glance quickly in my direction. "I promised that I would keep it to myself. But I will tell you this. The agenda wasn't his."

"And you're so sure that he's done a one-eighty?"

"No. But I'm sure you'll tell me if he hasn't, right?"

We pulled in the parking garage at two minutes before one.

"You go first," I told her.

"That's crazy," she argued. "You go. If I'm late, I won't get into trouble."

"I won't either," I said with a grin. "The boss likes me."

"The boss loves you," she corrected. "But you should still go."

So I went.

Although not before checking to make sure that the coast was clear and then planting a kiss on her that might serve to get me through the afternoon.

It was hard to believe that not so long ago I was able to survive months without any form of physical affection. Now I could barely get through the day. I was going to blame it on Alex.

The extended kiss in the car plus the elevator ride to the eleventh floor took me longer than two minutes, so I was still late.

It was five after one when I got to my desk.

"That's weird," Logan said, shaking his head.

"What's that?" I asked as I took off my jacket. I hung it on the rack and then turned back to look at him.

"You're late coming back from lunch. And the captain…well, there's still no sign of her. I wonder where she is?"

"I'm betting she'll be here any minute," I replied with a wry grin. "Oh, hey, what's that smell?"

I walked around his desk and made a production out of leaning over to sniff in his vicinity.

"What smell?"

"Cigarette smoke," I concluded. "Winston. Silver, right?"

"You can't tell what brand," he argued.

"So I'm wrong?"

He sat back in his chair and rolled his eyes dramatically.

"What do you want to know, Goren?"

"When did you start smoking? Because I've stayed at your place, remember? You never smoked. And no offense, but people our age don't suddenly take up cigarettes."

"So?"

"So? That's your comeback?"

"Oh, hey look. There's the captain. She's looking…different. She changed her shirt. I wonder why she did that."

"And you're changing the subject."

"I suppose she could've spilled something," he mused, ignoring my inquisition.

"And the smell is stronger today. You smoked at lunch, didn't you?" I asked him, each of us having our own conversation.

"Or maybe someone got…something on it. Some kind of stain," he continued.

"Logan…"

"What?"

"Who is it?"

"It's killing you, isn't it?"

I didn't answer him, but instead watched Alex as she came out of her office, heading for our desks.

I went back around to my side and sat down, and she walked up to Logan's desk and leaned over it so that she could talk to both of us.

"We need to leave here in an hour," she said quietly. "We're not telling anyone else in the department about this case, so the word is that you two are going to Ohio for a couple of days to work on an old case of Detective Nichols."

"What kind of old case?" I asked. If I was going to lie, I needed details.

"Several murders were committed here in New York but the killer was never caught. Columbus PD has three new murders that fit the pattern. Moran cleared it for the two of you to assist, and possibly bring the suspect back here for trial."

"Okay. What about you?"

"I'll be in and out," she said. "With meetings."

"You think Hassan still has ears in the department?" Logan asked.

"No. But I'm not taking any chances on word getting out that the NYPD is conducting an operation to take down a gun runner," she said firmly. "So no one knows about this, okay?"

"I hear you, boss," he agreed. I nodded, too, although she knew there was no one else I would tell. My two closest friends were sitting right here with me.

She straightened up and turned to leave, and then Logan said, "That's a nice blouse, Captain. It's a good color on you."

She paused briefly and I could only imagine the responses that were going through her head, but when she turned around to face Logan, she had a smile on her face.

"Thank you, Detective."

"She's going to kick my ass later, isn't she?" he asked me under his breath after she went back to her office.

"Oh yeah."

TBC...


	21. Chapter 21

**Alex POV**

* * *

I'd only been back in my office for a minute when Wyatt knocked on the door.

"Captain?"

"What is it?" I asked him.

"Yuille's having Kermit brought into interrogation. He got his lawyer, but he still agreed to talk to us. We thought you might want to observe."

"I do," I agreed. "But I only have about an hour. I have meetings this afternoon. Did you call in an ADA?"

"We've got one on the way, but since we didn't get very far yesterday, we thought we'd get started."

"Okay," I said as I came around my desk. "Let's go."

Wyatt led the way to the hallway where the interrogation rooms were located. Yuille was waiting outside the door.

"He's not here yet?"

"The desk sergeant just called. They're on their way up."

"Have you two discussed how to get him to talk?"

"Yes, ma'am," Yuille said. "Although we might not need much. He was in possession of a frog when we picked him up. That's why we were able to keep him in lock-up overnight."

"But we don't have any motive," Wyatt said. "And we don't know where he's keeping the other frogs. There weren't any at his house."

"Well, DA's like motive," I agreed with a nod. "And I'd like to get a headcount on all of the frogs. So let's see what you can find out."

We fell quiet as the suspect and his attorney got off the elevator, escorted by a uniformed officer.

Even though the suspect had been in lock-up, the lawyer must have finagled having his client's cuffs removed for this meeting.

"Good to see you again, Kermit," Wyatt said smugly. "You look well-rested today. Did you enjoy our NYPD hospitality?"

"Who's the broad?" the suspect said with a nod in my direction. "Is this the DA?"

Both Yuille and Wyatt stepped up a little closer to him, coming mostly between the suspect and me.

"This is Captain Eames," Yuille said. "She runs this department. She'll decide when you've said something that warrants calling the DA."

"Oh, a captain," he said with a smile. "I'd like to shake your hand."

"I don't think so, Kermit," Wyatt said, corralling the suspect toward the interrogation room. "You keep your hands to yourself."

I appreciated his caution.

They'd had to remain double-gloved while searching his home and car to keep from being exposed to the frog poison. It didn't remain toxic for long once it was off the frog, but it certainly wasn't worth the risk.

And I definitely didn't blame them for not wanting to touch Kermit himself.

But as he said the words, the man reached into his lawyer's jacket pocket, simultaneously shoving him away as he pulled out a frog.

And believe me, I know. This sounds crazy.

But I pulled my gun.

So did Wyatt and Yuille.

"Get a bag!" I instructed the uniformed officer.

He hustled off towards the squad room.

The attorney had stumbled into the interrogation room and closed the door.

He'd had a frog in his pocket and didn't know it?

Was he currently dying on the floor of the interrogation room?

Or was he an accomplice?

I had no idea, but I'd have to wait for those answers.

For now, the four of us remained in the hall.

"I'm not going to prison," Kermit said calmly.

"So what's your plan?" I asked him.

"I'm walking out of here."

"I think you need a new plan," Wyatt argued. "You're not going anywhere."

I wasn't surprised to see that Kermit didn't mind holding the frog. He must have built up an immunity to the poison.

"Who's going to stop me? You? The broad? I don't think so. Have you ever seen anyone die from these guys? It's not a good death."

I kept my gun pointed at Kermit's hand. The only thing I could think to do was to shoot the frog if he let him go. I tried to remember if it could emit toxic fumes in a situation like that, but I wasn't sure.

Suddenly, the officer was directly behind me, holding the bag over my shoulder. He was obviously afraid to get too close.

I took the bag from him and then planned out my next course of action.

"If he drops the frog, shoot it," I instructed my detectives as I tucked my gun back into its holster.

"Captain, wait," Yuille said.

"It's fine. Right, Kermit? We're going to put the frog in the bag."

"Eames…"

That was Bobby. I should've known the commotion in the hall would get his attention.

But I couldn't look away right now. I had to focus on the frog.

"Everyone else go back into the squad room," I said firmly. "We've got the situation under control."

"Do you?" Kermit asked, holding the frog up in front of his face. "I don't think you do."

"You're making it harder on yourself," I said as I eased closer.

"Captain," Yuille said again. "Let me get it."

"No one's getting it!" Kermit shouted. "Now back off! I'm walking out of here or someone's going to die!"

"Let's discuss this, Captain," Bobby said.

I could hear him rustling behind me, but I still couldn't look.

But then I realized what Bobby was trying to tell me.

He didn't want to talk to me about what was going on.

He wanted me to talk to Kermit.

He wanted me to stall so that he and the others could talk about what to do.

I moved around to the side of Kermit so that we each had our backs to opposite walls of the hall.

The others were to my right and the elevator was to the left. I was much closer to the frog than I would've liked to be, but I wanted Kermit to look at me and quit focusing on what was going on down the hall.

"Tell me why you did it," I said quietly.

"Why I did what?" he asked, but he smiled knowingly.

"You killed three people," I stated. "Why?"

"Are you sure it was only three?"

"Maybe it's four. Maybe your lawyer's dead right now."

"You need a better desk sergeant. Mitch is my assistant, not my lawyer. And he knows better than to stick his hand in his pocket."

"And he's willing to take the fall for you? I mean, even if you walk away, we have him."

"You have him for what?"

"Um…impersonating an attorney. Possession of a smuggled species. Aiding and abetting a felon. Accessory to murder. I'd say that's enough to keep him around for quite some time."

"It's a risk he was willing to take."

"For you?"

"For our cause."

"What's your cause?"

But before he could answer, there was a blur of activity.

Kermit was suddenly tackled, taken down to the ground.

At the same time, I was grabbed and pushed into the wall with Bobby's large frame shielding me from potential danger.

I couldn't see him, but I'd know his body anywhere.

"I got him! It's clear!" I heard Logan shout.

I felt Bobby ease off of me and I stepped aside to take in the scene.

Yuille was sprawled on the floor over top of Kermit. Logan and Wyatt were on their knees on the floor and between them was the Ziploc baggie containing the frog. All of them, including Bobby, were wearing latex gloves.

"Sorry, Captain," Bobby said quickly as he took another step away from me. "We needed to make sure he didn't try to throw the frog at you."

"Yeah, Captain," Yuille added as he got to his feet, pulling Kermit up with him. "I knew I could take him down, but I was afraid if he saw me coming, he might try to get you."

"What if he'd tried to get you?" I asked in exasperation. It wasn't that they hadn't done a good job, but I was a little bit thrown by their willingness to put themselves between me and the frog.

"Well, I had the gloves on. I figured I could at least try to catch it, or protect my face. Something."

"Are you okay, boss?" Logan asked me as he stood up. He held up the baggie containing the metallic orange frog.

"I'm fine. Book Kermit here on additional charges, including the attempted murder of all of us. And take Mitch the fake attorney into custody, too," I added. "And someone go down and remind Sergeant Shafer that attorneys need to show ID. And you," I said when the uniformed officer came into view. "Never uncuff a suspect unless you're asked to do so by the interrogating detective. Am I understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said quickly.

"Good," I said firmly.

"What should I do with this?" Wyatt asked. He'd taken the bag from Logan and was now looking at the frog.

"Take it to the lab. Maybe it's our murder weapon."

Wyatt and Yuille dispersed, each handling their respective orders, but Logan and Bobby hung back for a moment.

"It was my idea," Logan said quickly.

"Which part?" I asked him, although I had to fight a smile now that the adrenaline was wearing off. Logan's statement seemed to be a favorite of his.

"I told Goren to cover you against the wall," he said.

"And you fought him tooth and nail on that, right?" I asked Bobby. He smirked and gave me a shrug.

"I'm the biggest. We didn't want any part of you exposed."

"I think you had me covered," I admitted.

"And for the record," Logan added. "I don't know what happened to Yuille since this morning, but he was pretty gung-ho about tackling the guy. He wasn't worried about himself at all."

"He's right," Bobby agreed. "Wyatt was going to do it, but Yuille insisted. He didn't even want Wyatt to help since he's got two kids at home."

"Good to know," I said. I turned and started heading for my office, but Bobby fell into step beside me.

"So you're not mad?" he asked quietly.

"That you sandwiched me into a brick wall in order to protect me from a frog-wielding maniac?"

"Yeah," he said with a nervous smile.

"No," I admitted. "But don't do it again."

"Unless we run across a similar situation," he amended.

I waved him off and went into my office and closed the door.

I needed a moment to breathe.

_So Yuille stepped up_, I thought.

Already.

I was glad to hear that. I would hate to think I was such a bad judge of character.

He'd really seemed like a good guy to me and it would make so much more sense if he just got sucked in by a bitter girlfriend.

Alonzo.

I hadn't heard from her lately, but surely I would again soon.

In fact, Moran had mentioned something about a dinner on Saturday night, something that all of the departmental captains were expected to attend.

I dreaded the thought of that. Obviously I couldn't take Bobby with me, which meant that I'd be going alone.

I wondered if Alonzo would take Yuille.

Since he was no longer in her department, it wasn't against policy for them to be dating. If they would even still _be _dating by the time Saturday arrived.

And wouldn't that would be interesting?

Of course, I had a lot going on between now and Saturday, so I'd worry about that later.

A knock on my door pulled me from my thoughts and I looked up to see Bobby standing outside.

I got up and let him in, but I left the door open. Why, I'm not sure since I usually closed it when I was in here with detectives.

It could be because I was afraid of appearances. Or it could just be that I didn't trust myself to be in here alone with him.

"Logan's making a quick phone call and then we'll be ready to go," he told me. Then he dropped his voice and added, "Are we okay?"

"We're fine," I assured him.

I wasn't mad at him. We were in a different dynamic now than when we were partners.

Detectives looked out for their captain. It was just the way of things.

"And I didn't hurt you?"

"You can check for bruises later," I said quietly. "Here comes Logan. You two leave and I'll meet you at the hotel."

I didn't want anyone to see us leaving together, just in case. Bobby and I took that chance all the time, but that was risking our careers. This would be risking Logan's life.

We couldn't let anyone know what we were doing and their cover was that they were heading for Ohio.

Mine was that I had a meeting at city hall.

"Ready, Goren?" Logan asked, sticking his head in the doorway. "Ohio is calling our name."

"You guys be careful," I called out as they left my office. "I'll see you when you get back."

Thirty minutes later, I walked into room 1225 of the New York Palace.

Banta was already there, along with Bobby and Logan. Lacey and McHale had yet to arrive, which instantly made me suspicious.

"Where are the others?" I asked Banta.

"Good to see you, too, Eames," he retorted. "Relax, will you?"

"They're on the way," Bobby said.

He must have already asked the question.

He and Logan were sitting at a conference table and there were several files spread out between them.

"Have a seat," Banta said, waving me in their direction. "We'll get started after the others get here."

I went and sat down next to Bobby. My stomach growled loudly and Logan snorted out a laugh.

"Didn't you just have lunch?"

"I had a lunch hour," I corrected. "Sometimes things need to get done during that hour."

We'd planned on getting food on the way to the hotel, but that was before I'd decided that we needed to drive separately.

And honestly, after the frog incident, I'd forgotten about food.

But Bobby didn't.

He reached behind him to where he'd hung his jacket on the back of the chair and pulled a sandwich from the pocket.

It was a sad-looking specimen from the vending machine at 1PP, but at the moment I wasn't going to be picky.

"It's not much, but it'll hold you for now," he told me apologetically.

"Did you eat something?"

"One like that," he told me. "It's not as bad as it looks."

He was right when he said there wasn't much to it, and he's a lot bigger than me, so I pulled off the plastic wrapper and gave him half of the sandwich. He argued briefly, but then he caved, taking the sandwich and kissing me on the nose at the same time.

That was one plus to working with the feds again.

They knew we were together.

Besides, Banta had busied himself on the other side of the room, looking at his laptop.

"What about you?" I asked Logan.

"What about me?"

"You didn't eat at lunch either."

"How do you know?"

"Because you smell like smoke and I'm pretty sure your newfound habit is a post-coital obsession, so…did you eat lunch? Or did you have other things to take care of during that hour?" I asked him with a grin.

"She's better than you, Goren," he replied, shaking his head.

"I was getting around to that," Bobby insisted. "So, she's right?"

"Yeah, she's right. And no, I didn't eat. Not much anyway. And before you ask, no I'm still not going to tell you who it is."

"It's not Jacobs, is it?" I asked him. She was the only woman in my department who was unmarried, and I had to admit that she was attractive. But Logan shook his head quickly.

"She's not my type, so no worries there, boss."

"So if she's not in the department, then there's no reason why you can't say," Bobby reasoned.

"You two are like a broken record," he said.

But then he looked thoughtful for a minute and I almost thought that maybe he was going to tell us.

Until McHale and Lacey walked into the room.

"Sorry we're late," Lacey announced. "Traffic on the FDR was insane."

We started off with a round of hellos but Banta nipped it in the bud.

"If you guys want social hour, make it another time. Right now, we've got forty-eight hours to make sure this meeting goes as planned."

Forty-eight hours to make sure that Logan was fully prepared to pull off the ruse and that we knew enough about the location to have a fool-proof plan to provide him with back-up.

Banta was right.

It was time to get down to business.

TBC...


	22. Chapter 22

**Logan POV**

* * *

We worked in the suite at the Palace until after three in the morning.

I was exhausted by the time I left.

Fortunately, we'd ordered food twice during the twelve plus hours we were sequestered so I didn't starve to death.

But I was worried.

I'd known when I accepted the assignment that it was going to be dangerous, but maybe I'd underestimated.

Hassan ran with a crowd of no less than four body guards.

We had the intel on all of them, but that didn't help me much.

The bottom line was that if I got made, I was dead.

No back-up in the world would be able to arrive quickly enough to take out all four of the hired muscle before one of them got to me.

I drove to Liz's house on autopilot while I thought back over my life.

I liked to think that I was a good guy.

I worked hard.

I was dedicated.

Maybe my sense of humor wasn't always appreciated but I never intentionally hurt anyone and I never broke the code of ethics.

I didn't steal. I didn't cheat. And I didn't lie.

My childhood had been filled with one disappointment after another and now that I was grown, I tended to do things to try to make up for that.

To try to balance out the terrible person my mother had been.

Maybe also to prove to myself that I _wasn't_ a terrible person.

When I died, if people considered me to have been an honorable man, then maybe that would be enough.

Then I thought about Captain Ross.

He'd left behind two sons. He had something to live for and yet he still hadn't felt as though he was doing enough.

He still wanted to do more.

I didn't even compare to him.

Just because I'd never much cared for him as a boss didn't mean that he hadn't been a good man.

He must have been for Liz to have loved him.

And this sting…it was dangerous. If I made one wrong move, one slip of the tongue, it would all be over.

No more Major Case. No more Liz. Just nothing.

But on the flip side, even if back-up wasn't fast enough to save my life, I thought they would be fast enough to still catch Hassan.

I'd be collateral damage.

But I'd also be directly responsible for taking a terrorist off the streets.

And maybe that was good enough.

I parked on Liz's street, but not in front of her place.

And there were spots available, but I wanted the fresh air.

I got out of the car and it suddenly hit me.

What if this was the last time I came over here?

I mean, sure, maybe there'd be tomorrow.

But what if there wasn't?

What if we worked all night and then I went to the bust on Thursday and that was it for me?

It wasn't like me to be so morbid and I wasn't sure what to do with myself.

I slowed my steps as I neared her house.

She had the front lights burning.

She was _waiting_ for me.

Suddenly, I wasn't tired anymore.

If this was going to be the last time, then I was going to make it good.

I went up the steps and started to knock, but then I remembered what she'd said to me at lunch.

_That seems like a lifetime ago_, I thought.

But I opened the door.

I wasn't sure that it was a good idea for her to leave it unlocked, but at the same time it was such a nice feeling to know that someone was waiting for me.

I went inside and locked the door behind me.

I'd sent her a text at midnight to let her know that I'd be a little longer, but I hadn't spoken to her since then.

She'd left a light on in the kitchen and a lamp on in the living room.

The living room was where I found her, in a recliner with an open book on her lap. And she was sound asleep.

I watched her as I quietly slipped out of my shoes and jacket and then emptied my pockets onto the side table.

_She waited up for me_, I thought.

Or at least she tried, which was really what counted.

I almost didn't want to wake her. I pulled off my tie and then reached out to take the book from her lap.

I nearly laughed out loud when I saw the title.

Blood on the Table: The Greatest Cases of New York City's Office of the Chief Medical Examiner.

_Don't get enough of this at work, Doc?_

Hell, I wasn't sure who'd given the author his information, but I had a feeling that Liz would've been a much better source. She was the best damn ME I'd ever worked with.

And I'd thought that even _before_ I started sleeping with her.

With her book now laying on the table, I took another moment to look at her and that's when I noticed another interesting tidbit.

She was wearing my shirt.

NYPD – Staten Island.

For some unexplained reason, I found myself feeling a little choked up.

It was crazy, really. Women had worn my shirts before. In fact, lots of them had done it. It just seemed to be something that women liked to do.

But it wasn't something I'd expected from _this_ woman.

There was so much more to her than she showed most people. She had a soft side that she liked to keep hidden.

"Are you going to stare at me all night?"

Her voice sounded sleepy, but she had a little smile on her face. I brought my gaze up from where I'd been staring at the shirt to instead look her in the eyes.

"Were you ogling my chest?" she asked me.

"I was checking out the shirt," I replied.

"I hope you don't mind. You left it here the other day."

"I don't mind at all."

"How'd it go with the feds?"

"I don't think I want to talk about that."

"Okay," she said, pushing down on the recliner with her feet to tuck in the footstool portion.

"No, stay there," I told her. "You look comfortable."

"There's room here for two," she offered.

"Give me five minutes."

I went into the bedroom and shed my suit, tossing it over the back of the chair. Then I grabbed a blanket from the foot of her bed and went back into the living room.

She'd lit a fire while I was gone, and now she was sitting on the floor.

"I thought I told you to stay put," I said as I knelt down next to her.

"You did, but I've never done well with orders. Lay down," she urged. So I stretched out on the rug, lying on my stomach, and she immediately began to massage my shoulders.

"You're tense."

"Yeah. It was an interesting night. Oh, and I don't think it'll be long before Goren and Eames have us figured out."

"Did you say something?"

"No, but you know how they are."

"Yeah," she agreed. She moved her hands down my spine, pushing and working the muscles, eliciting a groan from me.

"Is that going to bother you?" I asked after a minute.

"What?"

"If Goren and Eames know that you're sleeping with me. Will that bother you?"

"I would think it would bother you more than me."

"Why?" I asked, her comment causing me to roll over onto my back so that I could look at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Me, sleeping with Mike Logan won't hurt my reputation at all," she said practically. "You, sleeping with a tired old ME…you could do better."

I shook my head and settled my hand on her cheek. I hated that she thought so little of herself and she couldn't be more wrong.

"No," I argued lightly. "There is nothing tired or old about you. You…you're the best I've ever had. And I don't just mean the sex. I mean everything. Here you are, up at three o'clock in the morning, rubbing my back, trying to make me feel better, when you have to get up in a few hours and go to work. You're incredible, Liz, and I'm so glad that I got the chance to find that out."

I didn't wait for her response because she'd surely argue. Instead, I pulled her down to me so that I could kiss her.

My words had taken me by surprise, and probably her, too, since we were so steadfastly committed to this no-strings relationship, but it's not like I'd said that I loved her or anything.

I mean how crazy would that be?

She stretched out next to me and I slid my hands under her t-shirt. Her skin was warm from the fire and felt smooth beneath my hands.

My thoughts again rolled back to the possibility that this could be our last time.

And now that I was here with her, holding her in my arms, it almost sent me into a panic.

I didn't _want_ this to be it.

I wanted to be able to come home to her for a long time.

And then _that_ thought completely threw me for a loop.

_Come home to her?_

This was _her_ home, not mine.

And for how long would she welcome me?

Until she got tired of sleeping with me?

Because really, what else did I have to offer?

"Mike," she said quietly. Mike. Not Logan. What did _that_ mean? "Turn it off."

"I can't," I answered, knowing right away that she meant my brain.

And she was right. I was a mess. Too much work and not enough sleep probably.

"Yes you can," she said as she slid her hands inside the waistband of my boxers. "Just relax."

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing and the feel of her hands. Gradually, I managed to let myself go. My muscles went slack and my mind was on nothing but her.

"You're so good for me, Liz," I mumbled.

I opened my eyes and looked at her so that hopefully she could see what I wasn't saying.

"So good," I added.

I reached both hands up, pulling her down closer to me so that I could kiss her again.

And then I rolled us over so that she was beneath me because I decided that maybe I'd been letting her do too much.

And I suddenly wanted more than anything just to make her feel good.

I wanted this to be all about her.

"Is that a gun in your pocket, Detective?" she teased as I once again ran my hands under her shirt. _My_ shirt. I absolutely loved that she was wearing my shirt.

"Yes it is," I answered. I also loved that she liked to joke during sex. Especially tonight. I was in a weird, funky mood but she was pulling me out of it. "What are you going to do about it?"

"It needs to be unholstered and disarmed immediately," she quipped.

I barked out a laugh and grabbed onto her underwear, pulling them down her legs.

"Disarmed?"

"Discharged?" she corrected with a smile. "Maybe I need to work on my weaponry euphemisms."

"As long as you don't say misfire, I think we're okay."

"Logan, in the week that I've had intimate knowledge of your weapon, never once have I known you to misfire," she told me. "In fact, I have to say that you have the…ability to..._reload _more than any man I've ever known."

I smiled at her compliment even though I was slightly dismayed that she'd gone back to calling me Logan.

I'd have to work on that.

_Or maybe not,_ I amended.

Because it wasn't too long after that that she was calling out my name.

Mike.

Repeatedly.

And just the sound was enough to do me in.

I tried to remember if any woman in the past had brought about such a reaction from me.

I was pretty sure not.

When we finished, I left her, but only briefly so that I could retrieve the pack of cigarettes from my suit pocket.

Winston Silvers.

Goren had a nose like a damn bloodhound.

I told Liz that story while we smoked our cigarettes in front of the fire.

And then I told her about the feds.

Not the part about being worried. Just what we'd discussed today and how the sting was supposed to go down.

It never once occurred to me that I shouldn't be telling her, even though Eames had said no less than a dozen times that no one else could know about this operation.

But I trusted Liz implicitly and I knew that Eames would be okay with it because she trusted her, too.

"Are you worried?" she asked me.

And as much as I swore I'd never lie to Liz, this time I did.

"No."

"Not at all?"

We were still lying together on the thick rug in front of the fire, and I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her closer to me.

"Hassan is just a man. And after Thursday, he'll be just a man in prison. I'm not worried."

TBC...


	23. Chapter 23

**Bobby POV**

* * *

We spent all day Wednesday in the suite at the Palace.

We couldn't actually go to the warehouse where the meeting would take place, but Banta had provided us with detailed drawings of the building and its surroundings.

So we studied it.

We talked about possible scenarios and subsequent responses.

We read and reread the intel on Hassan and his men.

"We're sure he's never met Semere?" I confirmed. Semere was the dealer in custody.

"He said this would have been their first transaction," Banta replied.

I stared at him for a moment, wondering how the man had ever succeeded in the Bureau.

"Oh, good. Well as long as that's what the gun runner said," I replied smartly and then I turned to Lacey and raised my eyebrow at her.

"We tracked emailed correspondence between Hassan and Semere," she said, rolling her eyes at Banta. "We were able to establish their initial point of contact and compare it to their whereabouts since that time. They haven't even been on the same continent until now."

"Not only that, but Logan could almost pass for him anyway," McHale added as she gave Logan another once-over. "Put on a baseball cap and thrift store clothes and you'll be a dead ringer."

"Let's not use the word _dead_ right now, okay?" Logan said, and he looked to only be halfway kidding.

"We've got the word out to NYPD for no drive-by's, right?" Lacey asked. "We don't want Hassan getting anxious because of a random patrol."

"Eames is handling it," Logan answered.

"What's she going to say?" Banta asked sharply. "She's not mentioning a sting, is she?"

"Are you kidding me?" I asked him. "You honestly think we're that stupid?"

"No," Lacey answered for him. "Banta's just a little nervous, right?"

"Yeah," Logan scoffed quietly. "Because my ass on the line is going to make his career."

Banta scowled at him and got up from the table.

We were all a little on edge.

By this time, it was four o'clock and my eyes were crossing and my head was pounding.

Alex had left about half an hour ago to make another brief appearance at work. She'd said that she'd be back in an hour with dinner, but I desperately needed a break now.

I chucked Logan with my elbow and nodded towards the door.

"Let's get some fresh air," I told him. He'd been uncharacteristically quiet all day and I was a little concerned about his state of mind.

"Sure," he agreed. The suite had a balcony and a mini-bar, so I grabbed two beers from the refrigerator and led the way outside.

"Give me a cigarette," I said after I handed him a beer. He stared at me hard for a minute and I thought that maybe he was going to spout off some steadfast denial, but he didn't.

Instead, he reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a pack.

"I'm not going to take the heat for this when Eames kicks your ass," he said as he shook one out. He paused for a moment and then took out another one before putting the pack back into his pocket.

"You think I'm afraid of her?" I asked after taking a deep drag.

I hadn't smoked in awhile. Probably not since that gig as a bouncer back in August. But I'd been a regular smoker in my younger days and I guess the love of the taste never really goes away.

"I think you should be," he replied.

"Maybe a little," I admitted. He chuckled at my attempt at humor, but he was still off. "What's going on in your head? Are you changing your mind?"

"No. I'm not backing out now."

"We can try to find another way," I said. "I mean, we have the dealer in custody. He can attest to the fact that the weapons are for Hassan. We can still pick him up."

"Nothing's going to stick on a guy like him unless he's caught red-handed."

He was right, of course. We both knew it.

I just didn't like the change in his mood.

"Assaf is Hassan's number one," I said. "If you get made, he'll be the one most upset by that fact. He'll be our first target."

"Followed by Najjar," he said with a nod. "I know."

"I know you know. I'm just saying…if it comes to that, you need to get out of the way. Flat on the floor, okay? I don't want to clip you with a stray bullet."

I hated that he'd be going in with no vest, no piece, and no com device.

"It's not the stray ones I'm worried about. It's the ones with my name on them," he said pointedly. He looked at the cigarette between his fingers and then he stubbed it out against the railing. "Somehow these things don't hold the same appeal," he muttered.

"As what?"

"I mean, smoking them with you instead of after…you know."

"Ah. Got it," I replied with a nod. And then I jumped on the chance to change the subject for a little while. "So is this thing…serious?"

"What? No. You know me."

"Yeah, I do. And sticking with the same woman for more than one night isn't your style."

"Sometimes it is," he argued. But then he sighed heavily and leaned against the bannister. "I don't know. It wasn't supposed to be. I mean, we actually agreed that it wouldn't be."

"But?"

"But I can't seem to stay away. And it's not just the sex, although that's pretty good. Really good actually. But it's more than that. A lot more. I like being around her. I'm interested in what she has to say."

"And that's new?" I asked, unable to stop the chuckle.

"Yeah," he admitted. "It is. I mean, I have friends who are women and I have women I sleep with. They're not usually the same person."

"This one is," I stated.

"She is, yes."

"That bothers you?"

"I don't want to hurt her," he said after a minute.

I was dying to ask him her name since I had a feeling he would confess it now that we were in this deep discussion, but I held back. I couldn't take advantage of his vulnerability.

"Then don't," I said simply.

"Goren, come and listen to this," Banta called out.

"I'll be right there," I answered as I ground out my cigarette. I caught Logan's eye and asked him, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"If you go into this thing tomorrow and you're nervous…"

"I know. I'm good."

I went back inside the suite and over to the table where Banta had his computer set up.

"We picked up a call that Hassan made to Semere just a few minutes ago."

"Wait a minute," I said suddenly. "_We_ picked it up? Who's we?"

"We had to keep his cell phone active in case contact was made."

"Okay. Great. But Semere's not just sitting in a jail cell with his phone."

"No. An agent gave it to him when the call came in. We had a wire tap set up," Banta said evenly as he got up from his chair.

He knew where I was going with my line of questioning, and to his credit, he faced me as I stepped up directly in front of him, but I was mad as hell.

"An agent," I repeated. "I'm looking at every agent who's supposed to be involved in this. Who else is working this case?"

"Wait, you didn't tell him?" Lacey questioned Banta.

"It's need to know," Banta replied.

"Yeah, and we need to know!"

"It's okay, Goren," McHale said.

"No, it's not okay! The deal was that we pick the team. _This_ is the team," I insisted. "So who is it?"

"It's Rivas," Lacey said calmly. "I vetted him myself. I can promise you. He's clean."

I listened to her words, but I continued to glare at Banta.

"You need to settle down and listen to the call, Goren," McHale said.

"Play it," Logan said, coming up behind me. I finally nodded, and so Banta leaned over and clicked on play.

The call was short and direct.

_**My sources tell me that we might have company tomorrow so we need to move up the timetable. Tonight at midnight. Same location.**_

"Shit," Logan muttered.

"His sources?" I questioned loudly. "You pull someone else in on this thing and suddenly Hassan has sources?"

"It's not Rivas," Lacey assured me.

"I'm going to call Alex and get her back here now," I muttered as I pulled out my cell. I stabbed at the numbers on the phone and then looked up at Banta. "Who's his source, Banta? Does the Bureau have another leak?"

"No," he said firmly. "Besides, if it was one of us, then Hassan would know Semere is in custody, right?"

He had a point.

"Eames," Alex answered.

"The time's been changed," I told her. "Midnight."

"I'm already on my way. I'll be there as soon as I can."

I hung up with her and looked around the room.

"Okay, so what does this change?" I asked.

"Nothing," Lacey said.

"Except we'll be in darkness instead of daylight," McHale pointed out.

"That area is well-lit," Banta said. "We'll be fine."

"Is the shipment ready to move?" I asked.

"It's under lock and key in a storage garage on Chambers," Lacey said as she reached into her briefcase. "I made the arrangements myself and I got visual confirmation this morning."

She pulled out a slip of paper and a set of keys and handed them to Logan.

"Okay, good," Logan said. "How long will it take me to get from there to the warehouse?"

"Thirty minutes, tops."

"You should leave the garage at eleven-fifteen," I said. "That should put you there at least fifteen minutes early."

"When are you going?" he asked me.

"As soon as Alex gets here. I don't want to risk not being able to get into position if his men show up early."

He nodded and glanced down at the file-covered table again.

"Do we need to go over it again, Logan?" McHale asked him.

"No. I've got it."

He turned to me and shook my hand, giving me a sharp nod.

"I'll see you when it's done."

"You're not leaving," Banta said.

"There's no reason for him to stay," I argued. "We'll all be leaving to go to the warehouse."

"He needs to go over the files again," he insisted. "We can't have a mistake."

"He's memorized it front to back. He won't make a mistake. What he needs now is to blow off some steam and unwind for a little while before getting into character. Sitting in this room all evening will make him crazy."

"Goren's right," McHale agreed. "Go, Logan."

I didn't wait for Banta's approval, but instead just walked Logan to the door.

"Don't go home," I said quietly. "If someone gave you up…"

"Then they might try to take me out before tonight," he finished with a nod. "Don't worry. I'm not. You really think there's a leak?"

"No. But I don't like that Banta brought in someone else behind our backs."

"If they do know about me, then they won't bother to show up tonight, right?"

"Well, Hassan won't. His hired guns might. They want that shipment."

"Which means they might come in with guns blazing anyway. Guys like Semere are a dime a dozen."

"Not true. Semere has a good cover for his shipments. He was able to coordinate this one pretty quickly. It was dumb luck that the feds caught him. Hassan won't want to kill him. He'll want to establish a relationship and use him for repeat business."

Logan knew all of this, but I didn't blame him for wanting to hear it again.

"So I'll be good unless he knows I'm not Semere," he said with a shrug. "And if he figures it out…"

"I'll be there to take him out."

"And Eames," he asserted. "She'll be there, right? Because she's the one who can shoot."

I laughed at his unexpected joke and nodded my head.

"Yeah, Logan. Eames will be there, too. We're not going to let anything happen to you."

"There's no one else I trust to have my back," he replied.

"Okay. We'll meet up afterwards," I said. "And then you can tell me her name, right?"

He smiled and looked at the floor, shaking his head.

"Yeah, Goren. If we pull this thing off, I'll tell you her name."

Logan left and twenty minutes later, Alex showed up.

"So what happened? Why'd they change the time?" she asked.

"He said he has a source," I told her. "But I think maybe he just wants to keep Semere on his toes. It's a classic power move."

She nodded and looked at me with worried eyes.

"I'll be glad when this is over."

"Me, too."

TBC...


	24. Chapter 24

**Liz POV**

* * *

I got a text from Logan at five o'clock.

_**Can you leave?**_

He wouldn't ask if it weren't important.

Or at least, he wouldn't ask like that.

No accompanying details, no teasing. Just the interrogative.

I was instantly worried. I'd expected him to have to work much later tonight in preparation for tomorrow.

_**Yes. Where are you?**_

I gathered my things while I waited for his reply.

After all, it was five. And I'd been here since seven this morning.

I could leave whenever I was ready.

Honestly, I'd planned to stay as late as I could stand it because I was hoping to maybe spend some extra time with Logan tomorrow after the bust.

Assuming everything went as planned.

_**On my way to your place. **_

I checked out with the other ME on duty and left the building in a hurry.

This really wasn't like me, leaving at someone else's bidding.

In fact, if any previous man in my life had ever suggested it, I would've told him that he was crazy.

I'd be done when I was done and not a minute sooner.

But this was different, mostly because I knew that he wasn't really summoning me.

He just _wanted_ me.

And how great was that feeling?

I couldn't remember a time in my life when someone had made me feel so desirable.

I'd always suspected that Logan would be an incredible lover.

I'll admit it. I'd thought about him a time or two in the past. I'd imagined what it might be like to be with him.

I mean, why not?

He's a good-looking man with a charming personality.

He also has a sharp wit that often had me laughing on the inside even when I managed to maintain a stoic expression.

And really, his sense of humor is what attracted me to him even more so than his looks.

But even though I was attracted to him, I'd never considered the possibility that I wouldn't be able to keep my distance, emotionally speaking.

I hadn't counted on his openness and his sweet vulnerability.

There was a soft side to him that I hadn't expected. It was making it more and more difficult to keep things casual between us, because the more time that I spent with him, the more time I _wanted_ to spend with him.

I didn't know how things were going to end with us.

Surely he had no plans to make it anything long-term.

In fact, I'd told him the same thing after that first night.

_If we get together again, great. If not, that's okay too…_

And maybe I meant it at the time. Sort of. I mean, in an emotional sense I guess I did mean it. But physically…I definitely wanted to get together again. He was attentive and detail-oriented and I've honestly never been with anyone with so much stamina and passion.

But I didn't want to put any kind of pressure on him. I wanted us to be able to be friends, and I didn't want that friendship dependent upon whether or not we continued to sleep together.

But over the course of the past week, my outlook had changed.

I found myself thinking about him all the time, and not just because of what he could do for me, but more because of who he was and how he made me feel.

When was the last time I left work unfinished at the office just so that I could get home because I knew he was coming over?

How long had it been since I'd shaved my legs every single day on the off chance that someone might be touching them?

Although I had to admit - with Logan, it was a pretty damn good chance.

This assignment he was working on with the FBI had me scared for him.

The feds didn't care about their under covers. Danny was prime evidence of that. It was all about arrests and convictions, no matter the residual effects.

_Goren and Eames will be with him_, I reminded myself for the hundredth time.

And I did trust them. They'd put their lives on hold for almost a year in order to catch that Bureau mole.

They were committed and loyal.

Logan loved them both, I could tell. He talked about them a lot. He'd mentioned once that they were his only friends, and at the time I'd thought he was exaggerating, but now I didn't think so.

He didn't have anyone else.

_Well, he did now_.

He had me.

I found a place to park and walked the last block over to my home.

For some reason, as I approached my front steps, I ran my hand over my hair in an effort to smooth out any unruly strands.

"You look beautiful."

I looked up to see that Logan was sitting on my top step.

His statement caused me to blush, both because of the words themselves and for having gotten caught in the act of primping.

"I just…I was…"

"Come here," he said, patting the spot next to where he was sitting.

"I'm _not_ beautiful," I finally managed to say.

I climbed the steps and sat down next to him. He immediately picked up my hand and kissed the back of it before lacing his fingers through mine.

"You're a beautiful person, Liz. Don't ever doubt that."

"Are you okay?"

His mood seemed melancholy and almost resigned. I didn't like it at all.

"I really wish everyone would quit asking me that."

"I'm not everyone," I said firmly. "And something's wrong."

"I've got a lot on my mind."

"Why aren't you working? What happened?"

"They moved it up," he said, and my stomach tightened with anxiety.

"To when?"

"Tonight at midnight."

I nodded slowly. That explained why he was here now. The others were probably already getting into position.

I shivered, but I don't think it was because of the temperature. But Logan felt it, so he let go of my hand and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close up against him.

He seemed content sitting outside and that knowledge made me feel good. It meant that sex wasn't foremost on his mind. It wasn't the only reason why he kept coming back.

"I'm not sure how this is going to go," he began hesitantly. "The time change has everyone nervous."

"Maybe it needs to be postponed."

"We can't do that. If we put it off, he'll get spooked."

"So then you try again next time."

"No. It has to happen tonight. This opportunity fell into our laps and who knows when it might come around again?"

"What do Goren and Eames say?"

"They're uneasy about it. But not enough to pull the plug."

"You're worried," I stated. "You said that you aren't but you are."

"You know what? I don't want to talk about it. I've got a few hours before I have to get ready to go. Can we talk about something else?"

So we talked.

We sat on my front steps for more than an hour, each of us recounting stories from our youth.

I'd always suspected that his was a difficult childhood, but I'd vastly underestimated what he'd endured. Not that he focused on that when he told me anecdotes, but I know how to read between the lines. And most of his stories had a bittersweet edge to them.

Funny and yet sad at the same time.

Mine were painfully normal.

Mostly.

"My mother was mortified," I said, still chuckling at the memory. "I spent months going to a therapist just so they could make sure I wasn't going to be a serial killer."

"All because you dissected a squirrel."

"Uh huh. Well, animal abuse is one of the markers, right?"

"Yeah," he agreed with a nod. "So the therapist cleared you?"

"Once I convinced him that the squirrel was already dead and that I'd simply wanted to determine how it had gotten that way…"

"A medical examiner at age ten, huh?"

"Well, I was a big fan of Quincy, M.E."

We laughed together for a minute and then he suddenly turned and kissed me.

It wasn't casual or innocent and it instantly warmed my blood. He settled his hand on my thigh, squeezing gently as he continued to move his lips over mine.

We let it go on for several minutes and then he slowly pulled back.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"For kissing me? We've done that once or twice over the past week."

"I'm sorry because I didn't plan to do it tonight."

"Oh," I replied carefully.

I wasn't sure what he meant by that considering he was still clutching my thigh.

I was even less sure when he leaned in and kissed me again. He moved his hand from my thigh to my lower back, slipping it beneath my shirt so that I could feel his skin against mine.

He stopped suddenly and then rested his forehead against mine.

"I don't just come here for sex. I want you to know that. And the fact that I can't seem to control myself around you might suggest otherwise, but I promise you. It's not just that."

"I _like_ that you can't control yourself around me," I replied, sliding my hand around the side of his neck. "Do you have any idea how it makes me feel?"

"I'm hoping not used or convenient or…"

"None of those things," I interrupted. "And look at us now. We've been here almost two hours and we're both still fully clothed."

"Good point," he agreed with a small smile. "I think I'm just…I don't know."

"Mike, we like each other and we have fun together. It doesn't have to mean something bad just because we can't be in the same room without wanting to tear each other's clothes off."

"That's true. You should see…I mean…"

"I should see who?"

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head. "But maybe you're right. Maybe I'm over-thinking it. I just don't want to hurt you."

"You're worried about my feelings?"

"I'm worried because…because I can't stop thinking about you and the more time I spend with you, the greater the odds that I'm going to do something to mess this up."

"You can't stop thinking about me?" I asked, unable to stop the smile.

"Did you hear the second part? That I'm destined to screw it up?"

"Yeah, well only if I don't screw it up first. I'm not some delicate flower, Mike. You don't have to protect me from you."

"I don't have a very good track record…"

"So that makes two of us."

"You always make me feel better," he said suddenly. "It's no wonder I can't stay away."

"You don't need to stay away," I reminded him. "And you don't need to control yourself."

So he didn't.

He stood up and pulled me up with him and together we went into the house.

Hours later, when it was time for him to leave, I followed him into the foyer. He pulled off his NYPD ring and handed it to me.

"Hang onto this for me, will you?"

"Of course. Are you coming back here when you're done?"

"If you want."

"I want," I said firmly. "You don't have to ask. If you start getting on my nerves, I'll be sure to let you know, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed with a smile. "But I don't want you to leave your door unlocked. It's going to be late."

"I thought about that," I said as I went over to the coat rack. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the key I'd had made. "Here."

He held my gaze for a minute, but didn't say a word as he took the key from my hand. After he tucked it into his pocket, he pulled me into a hug.

"I'll see you later," he said quietly.

"Be careful. Please."

"I will. But…if something…"

"Nothing's going to happen."

"I'm just saying…if you don't hear from me by two, call Eames, okay? She won't know to call you if something happens and I don't want you to find out because you're called by your office to go on a run, so…"

"Nothing's going to happen," I repeated firmly.

I kissed him goodbye and then went into the living room.

I didn't want to get back into the bed where we'd just spent the majority of the evening. And there was no way in the world that I was going to go to sleep.

So instead I just sat in the chair and waited. And I thought about the conversation we'd had earlier.

It had been ambiguous and subtle and yet I was pretty sure we were no longer in a no-strings relationship.

TBC...


	25. Chapter 25

**Alex POV**

* * *

I haven't done this kind of work in a long time.

Not this end of it anyway.

For nearly a year, I'd been in Logan's shoes.

I'd been the one in the criminals' sights, bullshitting my way through a cover story in an effort to trip them up and get them to say something incriminating.

In those cases, mine was the life in danger.

I actually preferred that to this, especially since I was the one who'd put Logan in danger in the first place.

What had made me suggest him?

Did I want Hassan so badly that I was willing to put Logan at risk?

I was the leader.

His boss.

My job was to protect him.

I should've offered to do the undercover myself.

Hassan didn't know who I was.

And yeah, I know. Semere was a man.

But we could've come up with another story, right?

"Absolutely not," Bobby had said when I said those words aloud.

"Because it's too dangerous?" I fired back. "So then why is it okay for Logan to do it?"

"Not because of that. Because in order for this to work, we have to remove all suspicion. Exchanging a man for a woman would bring about suspicion. Logan can be Semere and not cause any red flags to be thrown up."

He was right, of course. But it didn't ease my guilt.

I had to make sure that Logan came out of this thing okay.

Bobby and I left the hotel shortly after my arrival.

We went back to the apartment and changed clothes since neither of us had been prepared for this to happen today.

I couldn't exactly provide covert back-up while wearing three-inch heels.

"I feel like a cat burglar," I commented blandly as I laced up my black hiking boots.

I was in dark jeans and a black sweater. I was going to put on a vest over the sweater and then a black jacket on top of that.

"You look pretty sexy," he remarked. "You would've made a hell of a criminal."

I smirked at him and shook my head.

"I could never turn to a life of crime. Orange is not my color," I retorted.

"Every color is your color," he argued lightly. He walked over to where I was sitting on the bed and sat down next to me. "I wanted to strangle Banta today."

"I think we should talk to Casteel after this. He has no business running a team. Lacey should have that spot, not Banta."

"If we go talk to Casteel, he'll beg us to come back."

"Let him beg. I'm not going anywhere. Are you?"

"You don't even need to ask that question," he replied as he gave me a quick once-over. "You should put your hair up."

"I will," I said, reaching back to pull my hair into a pony tail. "Do you have your extra piece?"

He nodded and got up from the bed, showing me the second holster clipped to his belt.

There was no way we were going to run the risk of a gun jam.

There would be at least four body guards, possibly more. We expected that once we made our presence known, Hassan would attempt to run and the others would do their best to ensure his escape.

"I'll get Hassan," Banta had stated firmly. "The rest of you secure his associates and protect the plant."

The plant. That was Logan.

And I didn't point it out to Banta, but he had the priorities backwards.

We would protect the plant and _then_ secure the associates.

And I knew damn well why he was insistent upon the fact that he'd go after Hassan.

There were two reasons, actually.

One – Hassan was the brass ring. We could arrest a thousand associates for little recognition. Hassan was the one who counted.

And two – Hassan wasn't known to carry a weapon. He didn't do his own killing. And I pegged Banta as a coward.

So this thing would go down one of two ways.

Either Logan would pull it off and as soon as the exchange was made, we would rush the room and take them into custody.

Or they'd sniff out the ploy and pull their guns.

"Are you ready?" Bobby asked me. It was still early, not even six o'clock, but we wanted to get there. We wanted to secure a good position and we needed to make sure we were there before any of Hassan's men.

"Let's go."

An hour later, I sat crouched behind a crate on the upper level of the warehouse.

There was a railing next to the crate and on the other side of that, the floor gave way to the concrete first level which was twelve feet below. From my vantage point, I could perfectly see the first twenty feet inside the door. I'd be able to watch them come in and I couldn't imagine why they would need to go inside very far, so I hoped to be able to see the whole thing without having to change positions.

Bobby was almost directly below me, fairly close to the door. Agents Lacey and Banta were on the side wall and McHale was keeping an eye on the back door. We didn't expect them to use that entrance because it was visible from a main thoroughfare.

So now that we were all in position, it was time to wait.

And for the record, I don't wait well.

Bobby waits even worse.

I knew some cops who could sit for hours, watching a suspect's house or waiting for a buy to happen, but I wasn't one of those cops.

"Everyone situated?" Banta said over the com device.

I was starting to hate even the sound of his voice.

I joined the chorus of affirmations and then made another visual pass of the building.

Honestly, I was starting to doubt myself.

Again.

Why had I put Logan up to this?

What if Hassan acted unpredictably? I mean, he and his men could just walk in here and gun Logan down without a second thought. Then he'd have the weapons and the money.

Were we so sure he wouldn't do that?

_Bobby was_, I reminded myself. He knew every detail about Hassan.

And I trusted Bobby.

"He wants to maintain this connection," he'd assured me repeatedly during the drive over. "The only way he'll get violent is if he's suspicious."

"Semere's European. Hassan will pick up on it if Logan's speaking with a Brooklyn accent."

"Logan listened to the tapes for hours. He's got it. You heard him."

And yes, I had heard him.

He had the accent down.

I was just panicking.

"What about the clothes?" I'd asked.

"He's got it covered."

We'd thought of everything. Or so it seemed.

But as the hours passed, my mind kept going over everything.

It was eleven-thirty and the closer we got to the witching hour, the more my stomach clenched in anticipation.

"He took off his ring?" I asked suddenly into the com device.

"Yes," Bobby answered. "Eames…"

"I know," I said.

I was making myself sick.

This _was_ going to work.

Logan was going to be brilliant. Bobby and I were going to back him up. The bust was going to go smoothly.

I repeated those sentences in my mind for the next several minutes until I heard the heavy rumble of a truck engine.

"That's Logan," Lacey said.

"I bet Hassan's watching him," Bobby said. "My money says he'll be five minutes behind."

"He'll wait to make sure he wasn't followed."

"Exactly."

We all fell silent as the engine went quiet and then a minute later, the door to the warehouse opened.

Logan came in and just from looking at him, I felt better.

He looked the part. And he looked at ease.

He walked in slowly, looking around the inside of the building, and then he leaned against a stack of crates and pulled out his pack of cigarettes.

Bobby was dead-on with his estimation.

Five minutes after Logan's arrival, Hassan came through the front door. He had five body guards with him.

Two stayed behind to keep an eye on the front door. One wandered toward the back of the building.

The other two flanked Hassan.

Hassan tipped his head toward one of the closest guards and said, "Check him."

Logan stood up straight and took a long drag from his cigarette and then held out his arms from his side to allow the body guard to pat him down.

"He's clean," the man said as he stepped aside.

"Efram Semere," Hassan said as he moved in front of Logan. "We meet at last."

_It's a test_, I wanted to shout. We knew they'd only become aware of each other a month ago.

"It's only been a month," Logan replied. "I couldn't get them here any faster. I was tied up with other ventures."

"But you do have them."

"Would I have called this meeting if I didn't?"

"Maybe. If you're working with the cops."

"You're the one making last minute changes," Logan fired back. "Are you sure you weren't followed? Because right now, I'm the one with the truck full of illegal weapons. All you have is a briefcase full of cash, so which one of us is taking the risk here?"

Hassan nodded thoughtfully and said, "So does it make you nervous?"

"I'm alone, meeting with five armed men in an abandoned warehouse at midnight. What do you think?"

Hassan remained impassive even as his guards chuckled.

"I think I'd like to see what you've got."

Another test.

The deal had already been made.

Hassan knew exactly what Logan had.

"Rocket launchers, automatic weapons, hand grenades…I've got it all, exactly as you requested. You give me the money and it's all yours."

"What's to stop me from shooting you?" he asked. "I can have my money and the weapons."

I'd had my weapon out since Hassan and his crew had walked into the warehouse and at the moment, I had it trained on Assaf's head.

Bobby and I had discussed this.

I would take out Assaf. He would get Najjar.

After that, the remaining guards would be handled as needed, but I wasn't going to depend on the agents to get any of them. And I wasn't going to shoot to maim. There wouldn't be time to risk having one of them still able to fire a weapon.

"You could," Logan said calmly. "But then you'd have to find someone as good as me the next time you want a shipment."

"Thieves like you are under every rock," Hassan said. "It wouldn't be hard to replace you."

"If you get the reputation of killing your suppliers, then yes it will."

I let out a long breath in order to steady my aim as Assaf reached down and settled his hand on the butt of his weapon.

_Don't do it_, I thought.

I started to breathe normally again when I saw Assaf shift his hand slightly away from his weapon and relax his stance.

It was a bluff.

They were trying to draw out any potential back-up who might have come along with Logan/Semere.

Hassan flashed Logan a smile and then raised his hand between them. His hand was empty, and I'm sure that he was just asking for Logan to give him the keys to the truck.

In fact, any good cop would know that's what he was doing.

His movement was cause for attention, but not action.

But Banta wasn't a good cop.

"Hassan, FBI! Freeze!" Banta shouted, bursting out from where he'd been hiding.

Multiple curses spewed forth on the com device as everything happened at once.

Assaf pulled his gun.

I shot him.

Najjar got his weapon out as Assaf dropped to the floor next to him. He looked up towards my now-exposed position, but Bobby took him out with one shot.

Hassan took off running for the door as the guards positioned at the exits came running inward.

Logan dropped to the floor as gunfire rang out through the warehouse. I didn't think any of Hassan's men would be aiming for him, but I couldn't be sure.

I got up from my position and pulled my second weapon, firing on them with both guns. The two men from the front went down, and when I turned to find the other one, I saw that he was on the ground as well.

McHale was yelling, "Hold your fire!" as Lacey chased after Banta and Hassan. I went down the stairs three at a time so that I could get down and assess the situation.

"This one's dead!" McHale called out after checking the one who'd run from the back.

"Bobby! Logan!" I yelled as I finally got to the bottom of the stairs and began running in their direction.

"We're fine," Bobby answered. I skidded to a halt as he got to his feet after checking the pulse of one of the body guards. He looked up at me and said, "These four are all dead, too."

"What the hell was he doing?" Logan shouted, looking in the direction to where Banta had gone.

"I don't know," I said.

Anger flooded through me at Banta's recklessness and since I knew that everyone was safe and the suspects were secured, I started running after Banta. He and Hassan and Lacey had gone out the back door.

By the time I reached the other side of the warehouse, Banta appeared in the doorway.

"I got him," he said. He was out of breath, but he had Hassan by the arm, and he jerked him into the warehouse.

"What the hell was that?" I yelled.

Lacey came in behind Banta, and always the peace-keeper, she quickly stepped up next to him.

"You guys are all okay, right? It worked out."

"It's not okay," I insisted. "We got him on what? Hanging out in a warehouse?"

"You're dead," Hassan said to Logan. "I don't know who you are, but I'll find out. And then I'll kill you."

"Looks to me like all your muscle is dead," Logan said. "What, are you going to kill me yourself?"

"He's not killing anyone," Banta said. "He's going to prison."

But I was so infuriated. The whole sting had been a waste. Logan could've been killed for nothing. We were no further along than we were before. Now we'd only have Semere's testimony and the emailed evidence, but we hadn't caught him in the act of anything.

"Take him to the car," Banta said to Lacey, shoving Hassan in her direction. "And tell McHale to get the NYPD out here to clean up this mess."

"You blew it," Bobby said, stepping up in front of Banta after Lacey had taken Hassan away. "What were you thinking?"

"I thought he had a gun," Banta said, turning toward Logan. "He looked like he was pointing at your chest."

"He had his hand out, waiting for the keys," Logan said heatedly. "Five more minutes and we would've had him on _everything_."

"We've still got him," Banta said dismissively. "What are you so pissed about? It came out okay."

I knew what Logan was going to do before he started to move.

And I wasn't going to let him.

The least I could do was this.

I shoved Logan out of the way and punched Banta square on the jaw, sending him backwards on his ass.

"Alex!" he cried out from his spot on the floor. "You just hit a federal officer! When I call the chief about this…"

"About what?" Bobby said. "I didn't see a thing. Did you Logan?"

"The only thing I see is a glory-seeking jackass," he scoffed. "One who's prone to premature…what's the word I'm looking for?"

"Ejaculation," I supplied, shaking out my hand. Maybe Logan was going to avoid being blunt, but I wasn't. I glared down at Banta and added, "And it's _Eames_. Tell the chief I said hello."

The three of us turned and left Banta were he sat on the floor.

"He might really call the chief," Logan said in a low voice. "You should've let me hit him."

"You've spent enough time on the hot seat today," I answered. "And Moran's not going to fault me for taking that guy down. He totally botched this whole thing."

"We're going to Casteel tomorrow," Bobby said.

"Yes we are. And Logan, you're taking the day."

"Just Logan?" Bobby asked.

"You, too," I told him. "After we go to the federal building."

"Eames!" McHale called out. "The 3-8 is on their way!"

"Good," I replied. "We're not staying. As far as anyone else is concerned, we were never here."

McHale nodded at me and said, "It was nice working with you again. I'm sorry about…well, let's just say I'm sorry."

"Watch your back, McHale. And Lacey's too," Bobby told her.

We got to the SUV and the three of us climbed in. Logan sat back against the seat and let out a heavy sigh.

"You did good," I told him. "You had Hassan going. If Banta hadn't jumped the gun…"

"I know," he said, pulling out his cigarettes.

"Are you an all-the-time smoker now?" I asked him as I started the car.

"After a day like today?"

"You're right. Give me one," I replied. Bobby raised an eyebrow at me, but I just shrugged. "You smoked one earlier. Are you going to get on me for doing it now?"

"No," he said with a grin. He held out his hand and Logan gave each of us one.

"So…Logan," Bobby said after he lit up a cigarette and then handed it to me before lighting the other one.

"Yeah?"

"Where should we drop you?"

"You know where I live."

"You're going home?"

"Yeah," he answered with a grin.

"Okay," Bobby said thoughtfully. He took a drag and then he turned to Logan again. "Well, it's over, right?"

"Uh huh."

"So what's her name?"

"Oh, did you think I was serious when I said that?" Logan said on a laugh.

"Who's name?" I asked. "Is he going to tell us who he's sleeping with?"

"No," Logan answered. "He's not."

"But you said…"

"You guys are the legendary detectives. You figure it out."

TBC...


	26. Chapter 26

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I was pretty sure that I wouldn't be doing any sleeping tonight.

After what had happened at the warehouse, my adrenaline was pumping uncontrollably.

I'd killed two of the body guards.

Alex had killed the other three.

McHale and Lacey had each hit two of the guards, but theirs had not been the kill shots.

They'd been aiming to disable.

Alex and I had not.

_Banta never even fired his weapon_, I thought with annoyance.

I forced myself to stop thinking about it for the time being since for the past two days that was pretty much all I'd been doing.

Instead, I said goodbye to Logan and then watched with interest as he walked across the street, heading for the entrance of his building.

"Can we stay and see where he goes?" I teased Alex.

I didn't think for a second that he was going to stay there. He just hadn't wanted to tell us where he was really going.

"No," she replied with a grin. "That would be cheating."

"Cheating?"

"He challenged us to figure it out. Following him would make it too easy."

"Maybe," I agreed. "So what do you want to do?"

"Do? It's two-thirty in the morning."

"Yeah, I know," I conceded reluctantly. "We should probably go home."

Just because I had the day off tomorrow didn't mean that Alex could do the same. She'd still have to go into the office.

And we both had to go to the federal building. I couldn't wait to tell Casteel our version of what had happened because I was pretty sure that Banta would give him a different story.

"I can't wait to get out of all of this gear," she remarked as she drove us through the quiet streets.

"I can probably help with that," I offered with a grin. I turned towards her and ran my hand over her hair, grabbing onto the hairband and tugging it loose.

"Yeah, the ponytail was what I meant," she said with a smirk.

"It's all I can do while you're driving."

"Since when?" she fired back, although I noticed that her eyes almost closed as I massaged the back of her head with my fingers.

"Where are we going?" I asked suddenly when I noticed that we weren't heading towards the apartment.

"You said you weren't ready to go home."

"But you are. You have to get up in the morning."

"So we'll go to bed early tomorrow night. It won't kill me to miss out on one night of sleep."

A few minutes later, she eased the car to a stop along the side of the road.

She'd brought us to the pier, the one we'd come to months ago.

We'd made love here once, in the rain. It was a memory forever ingrained in my mind.

She cut off the engine and got out of the car, but then paused with the door open as she took off her jacket and vest. I did the same thing and then walked around to her side.

"Ready?" she asked, holding out her hand.

Together we walked down to the end of the pier. It was much colder than the last time we'd been here, but it was still beautiful. The lights from the buildings on the other side of the Hudson were reflected in the water. Traffic could be heard at a distance, but it wasn't close. It was just soothing background noise.

"This is where we were when you made me promise to take the captain's job," she said as we stood along the railing.

"And you told me about Joe, holding you back."

"You know, I didn't tell you that story so that you'd feel the need to act differently," she said quietly.

"I didn't think that you did. I just liked that you shared a part of yourself with me."

"I share all of myself with you," she answered, looking up at me with those expressive amber eyes.

"Now," I agreed. "Back then, I was so excited that you'd opened up to me. And sorry for what you'd had to go through."

"With Joe? It wasn't all bad. He just held certain beliefs."

"He believed that the man should be the bread-winner. And that his wife should never surpass him professionally."

"Uh huh. I'm sure it's not easy. I mean, you tell me. Do you wish now that I hadn't taken the job? That we were still partners?"

"I believe the exact same thing I told you last summer."

"But then it was supposition. Now it's fact."

"And my feelings haven't changed. I couldn't be more proud of you. And I would never expect or want for you to hold yourself back simply because you didn't want to one-up me," I assured her. And then I wrapped my arm around her and said, "One of these days, you might be the Chief of D's. And I'll still be a detective. And as long as you're still coming home to our bed, then I'll be the happiest man alive."

She turned towards me, slipping both arms around me, and rested her head against my chest.

"I love you," she said softly as she relaxed against me. "So much."

"How much?" I asked her as I kissed the top of her head. "Enough to help me work off some of this adrenaline?"

"Out here?"

"We've done it before."

"When it was seventy degrees," she argued, but she was smiling. "You're crazy."

"You're not the first person to tell me that. So is that a no?"

"It's not a no," she replied. She moved her hands around to the front of me and then unzipped my pants. "It's definitely not a no."

So we made love for the second time out on the pier.

This time was much more risky. She wasn't wearing a skirt, so things weren't quite as…hidden as they'd been last time.

But we didn't let that bother us as we once again tested the durability of the pier's wooden railing.

By the time we got back to the car, it was almost dawn.

"I'm starving," she told me as she started the engine.

"Let's get some breakfast. By the time we do that and then go home and shower, it'll be time to catch Casteel in his office."

Which was exactly what we did. We arrived in the federal building at ten minutes before eight. It only took a few minutes for us to get approved with visitor's passes, and then we made our way up to the SAC's office.

We got off the elevator and went down the hall where we found him unlocking his door with his briefcase still in his hand.

"Agents Goren and Eames!" he greeted enthusiastically. Then he furrowed his brow and amended, "Or rather…Detectives. Detective and Captain. Can we just leave off the titles?"

"That would be fine, sir," I said, offering to shake his hand. But his hands were full so he just used his head to motion us into his office.

"I heard about the Hassan bust. Excellent work."

"That's actually why we're here," Alex began.

"You want to come back? There's an offer on the table if you're interested. I have to admit, I kind of hoped that working with Agent Banta again would remind you of how much more exciting the Bureau can be…"

"No sir," I interrupted. "That's not it."

"Oh," he said, looking at us in confusion. Then he put down his things and went to sit down behind his desk. "Then how can I help you?"

"Have you spoken with Agent Banta since the arrest?"

"He sent me an email outlining the course of events, but I haven't spoken with him personally. I understand that Hassan is downstairs in holding right now."

"He is," Alex agreed. "But I don't know how much you're going to get out of him. Sir, Agent Banta jumped the gun on the arrest. He nearly got the under cover killed."

"What? But he said that everything went smoothly!"

"It did. Except right when Hassan was ready to make the exchange, Banta moved on him. He didn't show the money. The sale is only presumed, not proven."

Casteel sat back in his chair and looked at us thoughtfully.

"All five of the body guards are dead," I added. "That may or may not have happened anyway, but as it stands, Hassan could very well walk. We've certainly seen it happen before."

"No. He's not walking this time," he responded firmly. "What do we need to do? How can we make this stick?"

"You need to unseal the evidence that was gathered from Agent Stahl's home. I know the Bureau covered up the fact that she was on his payroll, but if you use her accounts to backtrack the money trail, you might be able to get something solid on Hassan."

"You want me to open an investigation on the closed case of a dead agent in hopes of finding something to use against Hassan?"

"That's exactly what we're suggesting. Otherwise, you're down to emails and accessory testimony."

"Okay," he said with a nod. "Okay, do it."

"I didn't mean us," Alex corrected. "We have jobs, and I'm currently late for mine as we speak."

"I can't let agents do it," he pushed. "I won't have them investigating one of our own. Not one who was dirty."

I glanced at Alex and raised my eyebrow. She closed her eyes briefly and then looked at Casteel.

"Okay. But this is done officially. The NYPD will take jurisdiction over Stahl's case."

"Your department," he confirmed. "This is to be handled by Major Case."

"Absolutely."

"How long do you think we can reasonably hold onto Hassan without additional evidence?"

"Under the Patriot Act?" I questioned. "Quite a while. But he's an important man. And his country is going to be clamoring for his release. Once his attorney shows up, we'll be lucky to keep him forty-eight hours."

"I'll see what I can do about stalling his lawyer. And I'll fax over the necessary paperwork to Moran immediately. Get started on this, Eames. Find me something."

She gave him a nod and then got up to leave.

"Get me everything you have on Stahl. And I mean everything. If you hold something back, or have files filled with redacted information, then I'm closing the case. You can let Hassan go and explain publicly why the Bureau can't hang onto a terrorist."

"You'll get it," he promised. "Are you sure you don't want to come back? I've got a team leader spot with your name written all over it."

"Give it to Lacey," I said. "Banta shouldn't be in charge of ordering lunch."

We left the federal building and headed for 1PP.

"We just can't get away from this case, can we?" I said.

"I could just kill Banta for blowing it last night," she muttered. "I get mad just thinking about it. If it weren't for him, the FBI would have a solid case against Hassan."

"We'll still get him."

She pulled the car over two blocks from 1PP and then leaned over the console to kiss me goodbye.

"Go home and get some sleep. I'll see you this afternoon."

"You're going to work all day?"

"There's lots going on," she answered. "I can't miss. And you need to rest. You're next up for a call-out starting tonight."

She got out and headed down the sidewalk while I went around to the driver's side.

I didn't want to go home and sleep. Especially not alone. So instead, I pulled out my phone and called Logan.

"What are you doing?" I asked him when he answered.

"Laps around the house," he answered.

"You're alone?"

"It is a workday," he said wryly. "Yeah, I'm alone and I'm bored out of my mind already. What's going on?"

I filled him in about our trip to see Casteel.

"They're going to give up the evidence found in Stahl's home?"

"That's what he said. Since the feds just boxed it all up during the first go-round in order to perpetrate the cover up, the hope is that she had evidence of some kind that will allow us to track Hassan's dealings."

"Where's Eames?"

"I just dropped her at work. I'm supposed to be going home to get some sleep, but…"

"Yeah, I know. Me too. I haven't slept at all yet."

"So…do you want to skip the day off and volunteer for the Stahl case?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

TBC...


	27. Chapter 27

**Alex POV**

* * *

I grabbed a cup of coffee from the break room before heading for my office.

Last night's lack of sleep was going to catch up to me eventually, but I hoped the caffeine would stave it off for now.

I'd been tired after we dropped Logan off.

I'm pretty sure that I would've been able to go to sleep, but Bobby had been wired ten ways to Sunday and I wasn't going to leave him hanging.

Going to the pier had been a spur of the moment idea, but it had been a good one. Bobby had worked off his adrenaline in an extremely pleasurable way.

I stepped off the elevator and immediately saw that Moran was waiting in my office.

I couldn't remember him being here this much when Ross was the captain. Or Deakins, either.

_But I'm new_, I reminded myself.

And surely he wanted a report from last night. I shook off my unfounded annoyance and crossed the squad room.

"I wasn't sure if you'd be coming in this morning," Moran said. "I was getting ready to leave you a note."

"It was a late night," I agreed. "But I have a lot of things in my inbox."

"I appreciate your dedication," he answered. I'd left the door open when I walked into the office, but he stepped over and closed it. "So tell me what happened last night."

I gave him the rundown and did my best to censor my personal thoughts on the matter. Instead, I stuck to the facts. Or most of them anyway.

"At what point did you assault a federal agent?" he asked me when I finished.

I stared at him blankly for a moment as I mentally berated Banta for blowing the whistle on me. Of course, he'd said that he would, but I didn't think he actually would.

So I explained what had happened, leaving out the part about how Logan was getting ready to do it himself. There was no need to drag him into it.

"I can't have my captains displaying such a lack of restraint," he stated calmly. "You're the face of this department."

"Yes sir. I'm sorry about that. It won't happen again."

"You were standing up for your detectives. I can appreciate that," he mused. Then he gave me a half-smile and added, "I bet it felt good, didn't it?"

"Yes sir."

"Yeah, that Banta is a sniveling idiot. I probably would've done the same thing in your shoes."

"Is he actually pressing charges?"

"I reminded him that charges would prompt a thorough analysis of how the whole sting was handled. He decided it wouldn't be necessary."

"Thank you," I said, doing my best to hide my surprise.

Moran might be annoying from time to time, but he certainly did have my back.

"Okay, so don't do it again," he said dismissively. "Now, tell me about your meeting with Casteel this morning."

I told him about the stored possessions from Stahl's home, and how there was a possibility of finding a link to Hassan through examination of the items.

"Casteel's requesting that the NYPD take point," he said when I finished. "Specifically, you and Major Case."

"Yes sir, we did talk about that. The SAC wants to make sure that the lid is kept on tight."

"I'm not crazy about using departmental resources to dig the Bureau out of a hole, but I do want Hassan," he said thoughtfully. "Give it to Goren and Logan, but don't pull them out of the rotation. They just might need to do double duty, okay? Major Case has a full load as it is and I'm not benching my best two detectives to cover Casteel's ass."

"Of course," I agreed. I felt a surge of pride in Bobby at Moran's statement. I mean, of course I knew they were the best, but I hadn't expected Moran to admit that so quickly.

"I gave them the day off today," I continued. "They worked most of the night Tuesday night and all night last night."

"I'm sure you did, too."

"I did. But I'm sitting behind a desk. My life doesn't depend on my alertness. If they're out working a case, then theirs just might."

"Point taken," he agreed with a nod. "Okay, moving on...tell me about what happened on Tuesday. I hear there was a deadly frog loose in the squad room."

Tuesday. That felt like forever ago and yet it was only just now Thursday.

"I reported to you about the frog killer," I reminded him. "He was apprehended on Monday and held overnight. Tuesday morning he was brought up for additional questioning and he had his accomplice impersonate an attorney. He smuggled in a frog and the suspect attempted an escape. We had it under control in a matter of minutes."

"I received a complaint that you put your detectives' lives at risk," he informed me.

"A complaint? From whom?"

"Anonymous," he said with a sigh. "And I can't say that I agree with it. It sounds to me like the desk sergeant holds more responsibility. And the escorting officer, of course. But I would like to get statements from the detectives involved."

"Yes sir. In fact, their reports are probably here on my desk somewhere," I said as I looked down at the mound of paperwork. "When I find them, I'll be sure to get you copies."

"Not just the investigating detectives," he clarified. "Everyone who witnessed the incident."

"Absolutely," I said, although my mind was running through possibilities of who had made the call.

Could it be Yuille? Was he still trying to make me look bad?

"Okay, well, I think we're caught up for now," he said as he got up from the chair. "Keep me apprised on the fed situation."

"Of course," I agreed, standing up as well.

"Oh, and don't forget about the dinner on Saturday night. It's mandatory and it's formal. And I strongly urge you to bring a date. Is there someone who might fit the bill?"

"Are you asking if I'm currently involved with someone?"

"Of course not. That would be an inappropriate question. I just want to know if it's going to be a problem for you to get a date."

I raised an eyebrow at him, but remained silent as he thought about his words.

"Maybe that didn't come out right either," he said quickly. "It's just that the commissioner prefers to remove the potential for…"

He trailed off without finishing his thought, but I knew where he was going.

The commissioner didn't want his dinner to turn into a meat market.

"I'll bring a date," I assured him.

Because as much as I was dreading it, I had no doubt that my dad would trip over himself to go to one of these things.

"Good," he said with a nod. He turned toward the door and then looked back at me. "I guess your suggestion of a day off didn't stick."

I looked past him to see that Bobby was striding into the squad room. He glanced in my direction and gave me a sheepish look before continuing on towards his desk.

I should've known. I had no doubt that Logan was probably on his way, too.

"You can't fault him for commitment," Moran said as he pulled open the door. "Maybe he'll make headway on the Stahl evidence before someone else in this city gets killed."

I waited until Moran was on the elevator before I went to Bobby's desk. I didn't have to say a word, but instead just looked at him questioningly.

"I wouldn't be able to sleep," he explained quietly. "You know that. I may as well get started."

"And Logan?"

"He'll be here in twenty minutes."

I smirked at him and nodded my head.

"Fine. Casteel already faxed the request to Moran, so it's official. Let me call Casteel and arrange to get the boxes delivered."

"Okay. I'm going to get some coffee. Do you need a refill?"

My cup was still sitting untouched on my desk, but that just meant it would be cool enough to drink it quickly.

"I will by the time you get back," I told him. I glanced around the room briefly to make sure no one was listening and then I added, "And we're going to bed early tonight. No arguments."

"You think I'm going to argue?" he replied with a grin. "I'd be there now if you were with me."

"Go get the coffee," I said, biting back my smile.

I went back to my office and called Casteel.

"They need to come here to work on it," he told me.

"I don't think so," I argued. "You need to send someone to 1PP."

"Eames, my agents aren't errand boys."

"And my detectives aren't federal employees. You transferred jurisdiction to the NYPD. Send the boxes over here. The longer it takes you, the less time they'll have to work on it."

I didn't wait for his response, but instead hung up and got started on paperwork.

I had reports from most every detective in the department, detailing progress on various cases. I needed to at least be familiar with every case, so I spent some time skimming through the reports.

Twenty minutes later, Bobby came into my office.

"I thought maybe you got lost," I commented and then I looked up at him. He'd gone down the street to get the good coffee.

"Nothing but the best for you," he replied as he set the cup on my desk.

"You're going to look like the teacher's pet if you keep buying me the good stuff."

"I can't help it if I'm your favorite," he said with a smile.

"Don't you have work to do?"

"I'm still waiting for Logan and those boxes. Did they give you an ETA?"

"No, but if they aren't here soon, I'll call him back," I told him. He was still standing in the doorway, having moved there after depositing the coffee cup.

I knew that he was very aware of how much distance was kept between us. Outside of work he's so affectionate, that it would probably be all too easy to slip up if he was too close to me.

"There's Logan now," I said. "While you're waiting for the boxes, I need both of you to write an official statement about the events with the frog."

"Why? Is something being said?"

"Something," I answered. "But I don't know by whom. Moran just wants all the bases covered."

"We'll take care of it right now."

He left my doorway and went back to his desk, so I got back to work. But my mind wandered to Moran's words again.

He'd received an anonymous tip that I'd put my detectives' lives at risk.

Surely it wasn't Yuille.

He'd risked his own life in order to help get the situation under control. And he'd specifically tried to protect me, so then why would he turn it around and try to get me into trouble?

It had to be Alonzo.

Yuille must have told her about what had happened and then she'd called Moran. It certainly wouldn't be the first time she'd tried to jam me up.

Maybe Saturday night she and I would have a sit-down about this open animosity.

If we spoke at the dinner, there would be less chance of her creating a scene.

_And I'd be less tempted to hit her_.

Since I was thinking about the dinner, I decided to give my dad a call and make sure that he'd be able to go with me.

Although it would probably take something akin to losing a limb to keep him away.

"The commissioner's going to be there?" he asked loudly.

"Of course. It's his dinner."

"And the chief of D's?"

"Yes, Dad. Every department captain and on up the ladder from there."

"You don't want to take Bobby?"

"Very funny," I retorted. "No, I'm guessing that wouldn't go over very well. So can you do it?"

"Of course I can! What time should I pick you up?"

I gave my dad the details and then hung up with him as my desk phone began to ring.

"This is Sergeant Shafer," the desk sergeant said stiffly when I answered. "There are two men down here who say they're FBI. They've got a bunch of boxes and they want to bring them up. I checked their ID's. Can I send them up?"

"Yes, thank you."

He hung up without saying anything further. I knew he was annoyed with me for coming down on him the other day, but I didn't care. It was his job to check ID's and on Tuesday, he hadn't done his job.

I left my office and waved to Bobby and Logan, motioning them to go to a conference room and then I met the agents as they got off the elevator. Each one of them was pushing a hand truck loaded with boxes, and both wore surly expressions on their faces.

"This way," I told them as I led the way to the conference room.

"Whatever you say, ma'am," one agent said smartly. I cast a glare over my shoulder, but decided that a response wasn't necessary.

They could just leave the boxes and then get the hell out of my squad room.

"Is this everything?" Bobby asked when we entered the conference room.

"Yeah," an agent said.

"The entire contents of her apartment are contained in eight boxes?"

"Look, all I know is that SAC Casteel instructed us to deliver these boxes to Major Case. You want 'em or not?"

"Yes," I said dismissively. Together with Logan and Bobby, the agents set all of the boxes on the table and then grabbed their hand trucks and left the room.

"This can't be all of it," Logan mumbled. I closed the door and then joined them at the table.

"Well, there would be no need to send her clothes or dishes or things like that," I reasoned. "So it's possible that this is all of her papers and books and files."

Bobby hummed his agreement as he pulled out his pocket knife and sliced through the evidence tape on the first box.

"Surely they looked through this stuff," he commented as he opened the flaps. "They would've read everything before boxing it up."

"Which only means it's nothing obvious," I replied.

"Yeah, I don't know about you two, but I'm not blown over by the Bureau's ability to be thorough," Logan said.

There was a knock on the conference door and then Detective Wyatt stuck his head in.

"Captain, we've handed over everything on the Kermit case to the DA. You said you had something else for us?"

"Yes," I answered. "Get Yuille and meet me in my office. I'll be right there."

He nodded and left, so I turned back to Bobby and Logan.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," I told them. "See what you can find."

"We're all over it, boss," Logan said.

Bobby didn't respond at all.

He was already absorbed in what appeared to be Stahl's bank statements.

I looked at him for a second longer and he must have felt my gaze because he glanced up and gave me a little smile.

"We'll find something," he promised.

Of that I had no doubt.

TBC...


	28. Chapter 28

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I had to admit it.

Stahl was good.

If it hadn't been for her association with Dick Buster and his subsequent willingness to share information, we might have never figured out that she was the mole.

Because Logan and I went through everything in all eight boxes and couldn't find a thing.

But that was just our first pass.

I wasn't done yet.

Since we knew she'd been involved with Hassan, I felt absolutely positive that there was evidence in here somewhere.

"I'm cross-eyed," Logan told me at a few minutes after five.

"Yeah, we should probably call it quits for today," I agreed. "We'll start fresh tomorrow."

"Assuming we don't get called out tonight," he said as he got up from his chair and stretched his back. "Don't you have any pull with the boss?"

"To take us off the call-out list? I don't think so," I said with a chuckle. "And I'm pretty sure I'm not even going to suggest it."

"Smart man," he conceded. "Okay. Eight o'clock?"

"That sounds good. Get some sleep tonight. Tell your friend to leave you alone."

"Yeah, I'll tell her if you tell Eames."

"Tell Eames what?" Alex asked, having opened the door in time to catch the tail end of Logan's remark.

"That…we're hanging it up for today," Logan said quickly. "If that's alright with you."

"I take it you didn't find anything."

"Not yet," I admitted. "But we're going to take another run at it tomorrow. Are you about done?"

"I'm out of here," Logan said with a wave. "See you two tomorrow."

He left the room and I got up from the table. My butt was numb from sitting so long in the same position.

"I'm ready to go," she told me. "Just leave this stuff out and we'll lock the door."

I nodded and took one last glance over the scattering of papers and then followed her out of the conference room.

By unspoken agreement, I grabbed my coat and headed for the elevator while she went back to her office. I knew she'd only be a few minutes behind me.

I was tempted to lurk in the alcove in the garage while I waited, but I didn't. Honestly, I was exhausted. The past forty-eight hours had caught up with me.

I got in the SUV and leaned back against the seat, closing my eyes.

Apparently, I dozed off because the next thing I knew, Eames was getting in the car.

"I'm sorry," she said immediately.

"For what?"

She looked at me curiously as she started the engine.

"It's been forty-five minutes."

"Oh."

"You were sleeping," she stated. "I can't believe it. You actually fell asleep in the car."

"I guess so," I admitted.

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"What?"

"You can never again make fun of me for my ability to sleep anywhere."

By this time, we were pulling out of the parking garage, so I reached across the seat and put my hand on the back of her neck.

"Oh yes I can," I argued lightly. I gently massaged her neck and I couldn't help but notice how tight the muscles were. "These were extenuating circumstances."

"Uh huh," she replied with a smirk.

"So what kept you?" I asked.

"I had to take the statements about Tuesday up to Moran's office. Captain Maas was in with him and they were both feeling especially chatty. Apparently Moran is very concerned about my ability to get a date for Saturday night. He asked me about it this morning and then again tonight."

"You think he's asking because he knows about us?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. But he didn't seem surprised when I told him that I'd be bringing my dad. And that reminds me. I need to go by my place before Saturday so that I can pick up a dress."

"I wish I could go with you."

"You'd be bored out of your mind."

"I don't want to go for the dinner," I explained, and then I leaned closer and kissed the area around her ear. I could feel her shiver, which made me do it again. "But you're going to look so beautiful. I'd love to be able to stare at you all night."

"You don't even know what I'm going to wear."

"It doesn't matter," I whispered. She brought the car to a stop at a red light and I turned her face towards mine, kissing her firmly while I trailed my fingers down the front of her shirt.

Apparently my cat nap had served to give me a second wind.

A car horn put a damper on things and I reluctantly released her lips, but I continued kissing the side of her neck and I managed to undo two buttons with one hand. I slipped my hand through the opened fabric, caressing her bare skin with my palm. She let out a sigh and stepped harder on the gas.

"Are you in a hurry?" I teased.

"I don't want you to get ahead of me."

"You know I'd never leave you behind," I promised. I moved my hand down to her slacks and undid the clasp.

"Bobby, I'm _driving_," she reminded me, although there wasn't much fight in her voice.

"Uh huh. You keep doing that. I'm going to do this."

I pulled down the zipper and slid my hand inside.

Ten minutes later, when she finally parked in front of my building, I had her half out of her mind.

"Upstairs. Now," she said when I slowly extricated my hand from beneath her clothing.

As if she needed to tell me that.

If I didn't get out of these slacks soon, I was pretty sure the zipper was going to burst.

It was a testament to the quality of the garment that it was still holding together.

We made it upstairs and into the apartment where I immediately picked up where I'd left off.

"You need to nap more often," she said.

"It's not the nap. It's you," I countered. I tugged her slacks and underwear down to the floor and then finished unbuttoning her blouse so I could pull that off, too. I never got tired of looking at her.

I'd probably be ready to sleep for twelve hours straight after this, but that would be _after_.

Right now, I had things I wanted to do.

Apparently, so did she.

By the time we finished, neither of us could hardly move from exhaustion.

It was a good thing we were already in the bed.

Otherwise we might never have made it.

"I'm guessing you'll be able to turn that brain off now," she murmured as she rested against my chest. We'd skipped dinner altogether, but neither of us cared. It wasn't a priority.

"It's been off since you kissed me in the car," I replied sleepily.

"You kissed me," she corrected. "In a department vehicle."

"Yes I did," I said proudly as I ran my fingers through her hair. I knew it would put her to sleep in a matter of minutes. "And I'll probably do it again tomorrow. Are you going to write me up?"

"I'll write you up if you don't. Dereliction of duty."

After her statement, she let out a heavy sigh and settled herself more comfortably against me.

Some time later, I heard the phone ring. But just barely. I didn't know what time it was, but the room was completely dark. I was still wrapped around Alex and she hadn't budged despite the song playing on her cell phone.

"Alex. Phone."

"No."

"Alex, your phone's ringing. I can't answer it."

"It'll stop."

I shook her gently as her phone continued to ring. She was difficult to wake under normal circumstances and this week certainly hadn't been normal. I still wasn't sure what time it was, but I guessed it to be around midnight.

Her phone went silent and she grumbled, "See? Told you."

But a minute later, it started up again, and she finally rolled over to answer it.

"Be nice, Captain," I reminded her.

I wouldn't exactly say that she was nice, but she did make an effort. There was no cursing involved.

"Yes sir," she said after listening for a minute. "Thank you."

She tossed her phone onto the nightstand and sighed heavily before turning to me.

"We've got a body on Roosevelt Island."

"And it's ours?"

"It's a judge," she said, reaching for the lamp. "So yeah, it's ours. Which means…"

"I'm up," I said.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"No, but I'm still sorry. I'd give it to someone else, but you've caught Moran's eye now. You're the best. He asked for you specifically."

"Lucky me."

I reached for my phone as I looked at the clock. It was twelve-thirty. We'd gotten home at a little past six, but it was after eight by the time we'd gone to sleep. Four hours. After nothing last night. This day was going to suck.

I dialed Logan and nearly laughed when his phone did the same thing that Alex's had done. It rang all the way through to voice mail and he didn't answer until I called for the second time.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Dead judge on Roosevelt Island. Want me to pick you up?"

"Sure."

"Where are you?"

"I'm home," he replied. "Give me at least twenty minutes."

I hung up and turned around to find that Alex had gotten up and was getting dressed.

"You're coming, too?"

"It's a judge. I should check out the scene at least."

But we couldn't go together, so I drove my mustang to Logan's while she took the department SUV to the scene.

I scanned the area around Logan's place, looking for any recognizable vehicles, but I didn't see any. And of course, he came right out when I got there, so I didn't have any excuse to go up to his apartment.

"She's there, isn't she?" I asked him.

"Maybe."

"You smell like smoke, but it's not strong. So she's either there or she ditched you as soon as it was over."

"Maybe I ditched her."

"I don't think so," I said with a shake of my head. "You like her too much."

"Okay, so she's there," he admitted.

"You let her stay at your place, too," I mused. "Interesting."

"Are we going to talk about my personal life or do you want to go check out this murder scene?"

"We're not there yet," I replied casually. "I may as well entertain my mind thinking about your personal life."

He laughed and shook his head at me, but didn't say anything else. I knew he had to be tired, too, and now this judge case on top of working on the fed case…it was going to be a long couple of days coming up.

"So did you wake her up? Or did you just slip out?"

"Um…she's awake."

"So she's a light sleeper."

"Yeah, does that help you? Do you have a mental rolodex of all the light sleepers in New York?"

"I'm just fact-gathering."

"Keep on gathering, Goren. You're never going to figure it out."

We got out to Roosevelt Island by one-thirty. The area was cordoned off with yellow crime-scene tape and two officers were manning the scene.

Alex was already near the body.

"Eames came out here?" Logan questioned.

"It's a judge. She wants to make sure you don't screw it up."

"Me? It's you she has to worry about," he teased.

"Uh huh. Hey, I don't see the ME yet," I commented as we ducked under the tape. "He should be here by now."

"Yeah," he replied vaguely. "Eames, are you sure the ME was called?"

"I checked," she answered. "It's Rodgers. She's on her way."

"Good," I said. "She's the best."

"Uh huh," Logan agreed. "So what've we got?"

"I found the body," an officer stated. "I didn't see anyone in the area prior to that so I'm not sure how much help I can offer."

I bent down near the body and absorbed the sight.

"Blunt force trauma," I suggested.

"That's my thinking," Alex agreed. "Looks like he was caught from behind. Maybe taken by surprise."

"Wallet?" Logan asked.

"It's still there," she said.

"Sorry!" I heard Dr. Rodgers call out. "I got caught up in traffic."

She hustled over to us and set down her bag next to the body and then knelt down across from me.

"I'm sure you've already determined the cause of death," she said drolly. "Good to see you, Detective Goren."

Then she glanced up and looked at Alex and Logan.

"Captain. Detective," she said with a nod.

"Sorry to drag you out of bed, Doc," Logan said. "But I'm glad it's you."

"Me, too," Alex agreed. "I'm sure Judge Schuler agrees."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence," she said.

"It looks like he took a blow to the back of the head," I told her. I reached out with a gloved hand and moved some of the hair away from the wound. "A blunt object, but definitely not smooth."

"I'd have to agree," she said.

She leaned in closer to look at where I was pointing and that was when I smelled it.

Winston Silvers.

For a moment, I completely forgot about the body as my mind forced the pieces of the puzzle together.

Dr. Rodgers was Logan's secret lover?

I whipped my head around to look at him with the surprise surely written all over my face.

"What?" he asked.

I looked back at Rodgers and then back at him, but this time he had a grin on his face, and he said, "Took you long enough."

TBC...


	29. Chapter 29

**Logan POV**

* * *

After spending the day looking through Stahl's belongings, I was ready to call it quits.

Considering I'd gotten very little sleep the night before, and none last night, it was a miracle I'd managed to stay awake all day. I'd had to keep a steady supply of caffeine and conversation in order to do so, but even that had been difficult.

The conversation, I mean.

Considering that my non-working hours were consumed by a secret, I didn't have a lot to contribute.

The really hard part was that I would've liked to be able to talk about Liz with Bobby.

I didn't have anyone else and I was afraid that I was getting in over my head.

Last night when they'd dropped me at my place, I'd immediately changed clothes and grabbed a clean suit before going to Liz's.

I used the key that she'd given me and let myself in. The apartment was dark, and for a minute, I thought that maybe she'd gone to bed, but then I heard a noise from the kitchen.

"Liz?"

I was met with silence, so I set my things on the foyer table and went into the kitchen. She was standing with her back to me, with her hands on the counter and her head down.

"Liz?" I repeated softly.

I approached her slowly, not sure what to make of her less than enthusiastic greeting.

"Are you okay?" I asked as I settled my hand on her back.

She nodded and took a deep breath before turning around. That was when I realized that she'd been crying.

Liz.

It just didn't equate in my mind.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I wrapped my arms around her.

She held onto me tightly but she still didn't say anything. Instead, we just stood together in the kitchen. I could feel her work to get a handle on her emotions and my mind was filled with questions as to what had brought this on.

I mean, I'd texted her nearly an hour ago.

_**It's over and I'm fine. I'll be there soon.**_

It was fairly straight-forward and shouldn't have kept her worrying. It must be something else.

Besides, it's not like she'd cry over me anyway.

I mean, maybe if I was _dead_, but that was probably about it.

"I'm sorry," she said at last.

"Talk to me. What's going on?"

"It's…I'm just…so relieved."

"You're crying because I'm okay?" I asked in confusion. She let out a quick laugh, even as she continued to sniffle and she then finally pulled away from me and leaned back against the counter.

"I held it together until I heard you come in the door."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No," she said, laughing again. "It's…it made me realize how much I…I mean…I didn't want you _not_ to come through the door."

She swiped self-consciously at the tears on her cheeks, but I moved her hands out of the way and did it myself, gently running my thumbs across the moisture.

"I don't want to not come through the door either," I assured her. "I'm sorry that I made you worry. But it needed to be done."

"So, it worked? Did you get him?"

I closed my eyes, shaking my head for a moment, and then moved closer to her.

"It's complicated."

Not only that, but my mind wasn't on Hassan at the moment. It was struggling to deal with the idea that I'd made her cry.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Later," I replied, and then I leaned in to kiss her.

Her lips were salty from her tears and sweet from bourbon. There was a half-empty bottle on the counter and I wondered how much of her emotion was brought on by the liquor.

"I'm okay," she assured me when I moved my lips to her neck. "I didn't mean for you to see that. I was trying to pull it together before…"

"You don't need to pull anything together," I told her. I stopped kissing her and instead, put my hand back on her cheek. "If you can't cry in front of me, then when are you going to do it?"

"Um…never?" she suggested. "You know, I can hold up just fine during a crisis, but as soon as it's passed…I don't know. I guess I let my mind relax and then it starts showing me the possible outcomes."

"You don't have to be so tough around me. Just be you."

"I just…" she began and then she exhaled deeply and shook her head. "Mike, I'm…I don't want to talk right now."

She punctuated her statement by reaching up to kiss me. The gentleness and vulnerability were gone and even though I was curious as to what was on her mind, I completely forgot about it as she undid my pants and reached inside.

So we didn't talk, not until after we'd finished and we sat at the kitchen table drinking bourbon and smoking our cigarettes.

And even then, we didn't talk about what was on her mind. Instead, I told her about what had happened.

"Eames hit him? I wish she would've shot him instead," she remarked in reference to Banta. "That's one body I wouldn't mind seeing on my table."

Her words were said with hostility and emotion and the unspoken meaning was clear.

Banta's body as opposed to mine.

"Yeah," I agreed. "And I guess I owe Eames a thank you. If I'd hit him, it's possible I would've gotten into trouble."

"She would've backed you up. She and Bobby both."

"Maybe. Yeah, probably," I admitted. "I just hope she doesn't catch any heat over it. If Banta makes a stink about it, Moran may be forced to respond."

"I'm sure you'll think of appropriate payback if that happens," she remarked.

"We do think a lot alike," I said with a grin. I put out my cigarette and then picked up her hand.

"So you're okay?"

"Of course," she said quickly. "Like I said…it was just my way of releasing the anxiety. I'm fine."

"Okay. You have to work tomorrow. We should go to bed."

It was already after four by this point and I knew she usually got up around six.

"If I go to sleep now, it'll just make it worse," she said. "I guess you'll have to figure out a way to entertain me for the next couple of hours."

"That, I can do."

And I did. I was still so hopped up on energy from the night's activities that there was no way I would've been able to sleep anyway. I mean, I would've gone to bed with her if that's what she wanted to do. But I would've been awake.

As it was, we spent the next couple of hours in the living room and then she went to get ready for work.

"I'm not going to call you today," she said after she kissed me goodbye. "Stay here as long as you want and get some rest. If you want to get together later, let me know."

"I want to get together later," I replied quickly. I didn't like her reluctance and I couldn't decide if she was trying to do it for my benefit or hers.

She laughed at my eagerness and then kissed me again.

"See how your day goes first."

"Okay," I agreed hesitantly.

And then she left.

I was still wired and confused and a little concerned, so I took a shower and then I paced around her home. I didn't want to leave and yet I didn't know what to do with myself so it was probably a good thing that Bobby called.

So I went to work and I looked through the boxes with Bobby but my mind was on Liz.

Something was on her mind, something she wasn't telling me.

Was she pulling away?

Had she decided that sleeping with me wasn't worth dealing with everything else that went along with it?

Yesterday, I'd thought we were making progress. Sitting on the stairs in front of her place, talking about our pasts…it had been really nice.

_But then I made her cry_, I reminded myself.

And what was the one thing I said I didn't want to do?

Hurt her.

And yet apparently I'd done just that. Unintentionally of course, but that didn't make it any better, did it?

So I left her alone all day Thursday.

And when I left 1PP, I went home.

To my place.

It felt strange driving there instead of to her house. It was amazing how quickly I'd gotten used to her.

And how much I missed her.

Not just _someone_.

Her.

Was she waiting for me to call?

Or was she hoping that I wouldn't?

No, that wasn't Liz. She was honest. If she was done with our little fling, then she'd just say so.

And really, it wasn't a fling anymore. That would indicate that there were no feelings involved and there were most definitely feelings.

At six o'clock, I called her.

"Are you still working?"

"I just left."

"Come over," I urged. "I'll cook you dinner."

"You cook?"

"Okay, I'll order out for dinner," I admitted. She didn't respond right away so I added, "I'd really like to see you."

"I'm on my way," she said at last.

Twenty minutes later, she knocked on the door.

"You don't have to knock," I told her, echoing her sentiment to me.

"Okay, here's the thing," she said as she pulled off her coat. "I wasn't going to say anything, but I think I'm coming across as playing games now and you know that's not me so I'm just going to come right out and say it."

She turned around to look at me, but she kept her distance.

"I really like you, Mike. I'm not going to say that I'm in love with you, but I don't see that being too far away. And I know that in the beginning it was my idea to keep it casual and I'm sorry to change the rules on you mid-stream, but I don't want to kid myself about this anymore. Last night…thinking about what could happen to you…I realized that you are so much more to me than just a friend. And if that's not the direction you're heading, then I understand, but I probably need to back off a little."

I'd stopped breathing when she started talking, but I finally managed to suck in another breath.

"And I'm not asking for anything other than the truth," she continued "I just don't want to make assumptions and then blame you later because I'd really like to be able to come out of this as friends."

"The truth?" I said at last. "I was scared to death that you were tired of me already. I don't want this to be over."

"And this would be…"

"The beginning of something," I admitted. I stepped towards her and she willingly went into my embrace. "But you know you're crazy, right?"

"Oh yeah," she agreed. "But then again, so are you. I think we'll get along just fine."

We had a comfortable dinner together and then we went to bed. It was early, but we were both exhausted.

"So I admit that I like you and you stop wanting to sleep with me," she teased as we settled together under the covers. It was the first night we'd been together without _being_ together.

"Sweetheart, as much as I'd love to, I think that part of me clocked out hours ago. Please don't take it personally."

"You've been going forty-eight hours straight," she replied. She turned around so that her back was against my front and I wrapped my arm around her waist, holding her close to me. "Even Mike Logan needs to sleep some time."

But the feeling of her backside pressed up against me changed my outlook and I couldn't help myself.

Sleep could wait a little longer.

An hour later, we relaxed against the pillows again as we smoked our cigarettes.

"I'm on call tonight," I warned her.

"Me, too."

"What are the odds though, right?"

Apparently they were pretty damn good.

Our phones rang almost simultaneously about four hours after we went to sleep.

She answered hers and I let mine go to voice mail. I knew Goren would call me back and since Liz was talking right next to me, I didn't want to answer and have him hear her.

Not that I thought it would be much longer before he figured it out.

And even more so, not that I cared.

We weren't just having a physical relationship anymore.

Now we were having a _real_ relationship.

I was going to take her out on dates instead of always hanging out at home.

"Dead judge?" she asked me after I spoke with Goren. She was already out of the bed and was pulling on her pants.

"Uh huh. Goren's coming to pick me up in twenty minutes."

It was actually less than twenty minutes, but that didn't surprise me.

"She's there, isn't she?" he asked when I got into the car.

"Maybe."

He grilled me for a moment, but I just let it roll off of me.

"Keep on gathering, Goren," I told him. "You're never going to figure it out."

We got to the scene and started working it, although I had to keep reminding myself to act casual when Liz showed up.

How long was it supposed to have been since I saw her last?

A week, maybe?

"Sorry!" I heard Liz call out. "I got caught up in traffic."

I forced myself not to look at her as she hurried over to the body.

"I'm sure you've already determined the cause of death," she said to Goren. "Good to see you Detective Goren."

Then she glanced up and looked at Eames first before turning her eyes to me.

"Captain. Detective," she said with a nod.

"Sorry to drag you out of bed, Doc," I said. And that was the truth. I was sorry that both of us had been pulled from the bed because over the past ten days, I'd found that I really, really liked having her sleeping next to me. "But I'm glad it's you."

"Me, too," Eames said. "I'm sure Judge Schuler agrees."

While Liz got to work checking out the body, I looked around the area, hoping to get lucky and find footprints or maybe even the murder weapon.

The area was fairly remote and not on the way to anywhere.

What was the judge doing out here anyway?

I glanced down at the body, getting ready to ask about the time of death when suddenly Goren turned around and looked at me in bewilderment. He didn't say anything, but just continued to stare.

"What?" I finally asked.

He looked back at Liz for a moment and then returned his gaze to me and that was when I knew that he knew.

And his expression was so priceless that I couldn't help but smile.

"Took you long enough."

"What?" Eames asked, walking closer to the body. "Did you find something?"

"No, I just…smelled something…unexpected."

Eames stared at him, but he turned back toward the body. He was too professional to say anything out loud. Not while we were at the scene.

"I'm going to put the time of death at approximately eleven o'clock," Liz stated, oblivious to the undercurrent.

"So what was he doing out here at eleven o'clock at night?" I mused.

"That's what you two need to find out," Eames said. "Go make the notification to his wife. Find out if she knows what he was up to. By that time, maybe CSU will have found something of value out here." Then she looked at Liz and added, "How long before you get him on the table?"

"No sense in going back home," she answered. "I'll get started right away."

"Good. We need to get ahead of this thing. If it's someone gunning for judges in general, I need to know."

"I'll call you as soon as I'm done," Liz promised her.

"Let me know what you find out from the wife," Eames said, turning back to me and Goren.

The sound of approaching vehicles caught all of our attention. Liz moved quickly to cover the body while the officers on-scene did their best to corral the press.

"Great," Eames muttered. "It looks like the media got wind of this already. I'm going to stall on the identity. You two go talk to Mrs. Schuler."

TBC...


	30. Chapter 30

**Alex POV**

* * *

I saw Bobby have his _a-ha_ moment at the crime scene, but before I could ask him about it, the press showed up.

How did they manage to find out about this stuff anyway?

There was no way in the world I was going to let Judge Schuler's name be released at this point. Not when notification had yet to be made.

So I sent Bobby and Logan on their way and then I went to make a statement.

I'd hoped that they wouldn't pick up a case yet.

Another day or two of looking at Stahl's boxes would've been beneficial, but now they were going to have to split their time with this.

And really, neither issue was one that should have to take a back seat, which meant that sleep was nowhere in the near future, for them or for me.

Because I wasn't going to hang them out to dry and I certainly wasn't going to go home and crawl into bed while Bobby was still working.

I could look through Stahl's things at the office while they were out tracking leads on the Schuler murder.

_And no time like the present_, I thought when I arrived at 1PP.

It was two-thirty in the morning and the place was like a ghost town. It would be at least another hour or so before Bobby and Logan finished with the widow and probably about that long before Rodgers had anything to report, so I bypassed my office and went into the conference room.

I should've gotten some coffee before I came in here, but I didn't and I wasn't going to leave again now, so I took a deep breath and opened the first box.

Halfway through it, my mind was wandering. I couldn't help it.

Something was being said out at that crime scene and I'd come in too late to quiz Bobby about it.

"_No, I just…smelled something…unexpected."_

That's what he'd had said.

I had no doubt that he'd smelled something, but unexpected?

And if he had, then why didn't he say what it was?

Unless the smell wasn't on the body.

His remark had been precluded by a pointed stare at Logan.

But it wouldn't have been Logan who smelled because they'd ridden over together in the car. Bobby would've noticed it sooner.

The only new person on the scene was Dr. Rodgers. Why would her scent cause Bobby to look at Logan?

Unless…

My phone rang and I looked guiltily at it, realizing that I'd spent way too much time speculating on personal matters when I should've been working.

It was Dr. Rodgers.

Interesting.

"Eames," I answered.

"I haven't started the autopsy yet, but I wanted to let you know that I found lipstick on…the judge's…briefs."

"Oh, you're kidding me," I muttered. "And I'm betting it's not the same shade as what the wife wears. Why do men have so much trouble keeping their pants zipped?"

"I'm guessing that's a rhetorical question," she replied.

"Not really. Insight is always welcome," I joked.

"Are you saying that you're having trouble?"

"Me? Oh, no," I said quickly. "No, no, not at all. I just…I mean in high-profile cases…"

"Oh, I get it," she said, chuckling a little. "I thought maybe you meant you."

"No," I said emphatically.

"Okay, because you know, if you just give me a heads-up, I can fast track the autopsy of any unfaithful lover you decide to kill. You know, to make sure it's ruled accidental."

I laughed at her offer and even though she didn't know that I was with Bobby, out of respect for him, I reassured her that I wouldn't be needing her services.

And then I got back to the case.

"So…the lipstick?"

"Right. As for the shade, it looks to be in the neighborhood of reddish brown. There's not enough there for me to be more specific, but I thought you might want to pass it along to your detectives, since they're meeting with the wife."

"Yes, definitely," I replied. "Anything else of interest?"

"Not just yet. I'll call you when I know more."

"Okay. Thank you."

I hung up with her and called Bobby.

It took him a minute to answer and when he did, he spoke in a hushed tone.

"You're with her now?" I asked him.

"We just made the notification."

"How's she holding up?"

"Stoic. Emotionless but not suspiciously so. She doesn't seem to keep up with her husband's schedule."

"I don't suppose she's wearing lipstick at this time of night."

"No, why?"

I told him what Rodgers had found and he was quiet for a minute.

"There's no good way to ask that question, is there?" he said at last.

"No," I agreed. "So don't. Not yet anyway. But keep that in mind during the investigation."

"Where are you?" he asked suddenly.

"I'm in the conference room, working on Stahl's papers."

"Okay. We'll be heading your way soon."

I hung up with him and forced myself to focus on the contents of the boxes.

Bank statements.

Lots of them.

Craddock-Marine. Wells Fargo. Bank of America. Chase.

Who used four different banks?

Okay, rich people maybe.

But what government employee used four different banks?

The balances were all fairly modest.

I flipped the stapled pages, looking at the activity rather than just the beginning and ending balances.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Except that it seemed like they belonged to different people. The amount of activity in each account was normal, if that was the person's only account.

So then I pulled out all of the statements and spread them out across the table.

It was possible that I was onto something.

* * *

**Bobby POV**

"You're sleeping with Dr. Rodgers."

"You've said that three times, Goren. My answer isn't going to change."

We were on our way to 1PP, having just spoken with Martha Schuler. I'd been too busy to think much about it, but now I'd finally allowed myself a moment to ponder this personal revelation.

"She smokes?"

"After sex."

"She's a doctor."

"Yeah, so?"

"I'm just…huh. Dr. Rodgers. Since when? How did that happen?"

"After our first day," he said. "It was strictly by accident."

"You said you left your pen in the morgue that next day. You didn't."

"Nope."

"Huh," I said again. "You really like her."

"Yeah, I do. And for some reason, she likes me, too."

We drove in silence for a minute and then something else occurred to me.

"Have you told her about Alex and me?"

"No," he answered quickly. "No way. I gave you my word on that."

"Okay," I said with a nod.

"But you know…you can trust her. I mean, she thinks a lot of you guys. And even if I end up screwing this up and she dumps me, she's not going to tell anyone about you two."

He had a point. After that incident over my DNA test, she'd been extremely apologetic. And very supportive of me. I knew that she felt bad about that lapse in judgment and I was pretty sure that she'd never let anything like that happen again.

Aside from that, it would be nice to have someone else who knew, especially a woman. I mean, I could talk to Logan about us, but Alex didn't have anyone.

Well, she had her mother and her sister, but she didn't really share much personal information with either of them. I mean, not the _really_ personal stuff anyway. Although, I wasn't sure if I wanted her sharing anything intimate with Rodgers either. I'd have to give that some more thought.

But it also wasn't just my decision to make, so for now I pushed the consideration from my mind.

"So what's our theory with the judge?" I asked him, shifting gears since we were nearing 1PP.

"If he had a woman on the side, then that would make the wife a suspect," he said.

"If she knew about it. How did he end up on Roosevelt Island? I don't see a mistress agreeing to see him out there."

"So it's a prostitute."

"It could be. And if that's the case, it's less likely that the wife would know."

"But why would a hooker kill him? He wasn't robbed."

"Or the lipstick could be his wife's. Or it got on there innocuously and has absolutely nothing to do with this."

"I don't know about you, but it's not often I end up with lipstick on my skivvies. And when I do, it's there for a reason."

"I don't think Rodgers wears lipstick, does she?" I asked, unable to resist teasing him since he'd opened the door.

"Ha ha," he retorted. "I'm talking about in the past."

"I know," I replied, somewhat repentant for my unprofessional remark. "We need to get the full report from Rodgers."

"Let's take a detour and go by there now. She's probably had time to get a good start."

So we went by the morgue to see what she'd learned. When we walked in, I couldn't help but look at her in a new light.

She wasn't just the giver of answers for my endless supply of questions.

She was also my best friend's girlfriend.

It was a strange progression of perspective and yet I could see it.

I also noticed the quick smile that was exchanged between the two of them before she got down to business.

Had they done that last week when we were down here and I just hadn't caught it?

Maybe I wasn't such a great detective after all.

"The lipstick wasn't there by chance," she stated. "There's definitely evidence of oral sex within a short time before his death."

"And the cause of death?" I asked her.

"You were right, as usual, Detective. Blunt force trauma, and the emphasis is on force. It only took one blow to crack his skull."

"So…not a woman," Logan stated.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," she fired back.

"I didn't mean it like that," he countered.

"I know," she said on a chuckle. "And actually this time I think you might be right. The blow came from above and the judge was six foot two. I'd say your killer should be around the same height as the two of you."

"So it could be a tall woman."

"A really strong, really tall woman," she amended. "Yes, it could be."

"Or maybe the victim was on his knees when it happened," Logan suggested.

"There's no evidence on his pants to suggest that he was in a kneeling position. But I should have a full report for you in another hour or so."

"Okay, thanks," I told her.

And then I turned and left the morgue, giving Logan a minute alone with her.

Because didn't he always do that for me?

It only took Logan a moment to catch up to me in the hallway.

"Did you tell her?" I asked him.

"That you know? Yeah."

"What did she say?"

"You think we spent our minute of privacy talking about you?" he joked. "I don't ask what you and Eames talk about after I leave the room."

He had a valid point, so I let the matter drop.

"So…what's our theory now?" I said as we got in the car. "Someone attacked him shortly after hooking up…so someone followed him out there?"

"Or maybe the hook up was a set up," Logan suggested. "Maybe the motive has nothing to do with sex and the killer just used it as a means to lure him to the abandoned area."

I nodded thoughtfully at his idea.

It made the most sense of what we had so far.

But why?

And who?

Because that meant that not only did the killer have a motive important enough to plan out the elaborate scheme, but also that he knew the judge well enough to know that he'd willingly go along with it.

"Although it's a blow job," Logan said with a shrug when I stated my thoughts out loud. "The killer doesn't have to be a rocket scientist to think the guy would accept the offer."

"He's married."

"Yeah, but we don't know anything about his relationship with his wife. You can't make the assumption that just because two people are together that everything is copasetic."

"No, I know," I agreed. "Okay, so we need to find out more about his personal life. We need to talk to his secretary, maybe some of his colleagues. We need to know where he went when he left work yesterday."

Because the wife had said that he'd never come home. I know some judges work long hours, but the time of death was supposedly around eleven. He should've been home long before then.

We'd avoided a couple of the hard questions with the wife for now, but we'd have to meet back with her at some point.

We went up to the eleventh floor and during the elevator ride, Logan looked at me seriously.

"She's worried about what you think," he said.

"Rodgers?"

"Yeah. When I told her that you knew, she asked if you laughed about it."

"Why would I laugh? I think it's great. And anyone willing to put up with you…"

"Thank you," he said with a grin. "That's what I tried to tell her. I don't know. Maybe she's just afraid that you'll look at her differently now that you know."

"Well, I did," I admitted. "But not in a bad way. Honestly, it makes me want to get to know her better."

"Good. Then you and Eames come out of the closet and we can all go out together."

We ended our conversation as we got off the elevator. It definitely wasn't a discussion to be having when people might be listening.

Although, it didn't look like there was anyone around. It was almost four o'clock in the morning.

I opened up the door to the conference room and found Alex on her hands and knees on the floor amidst a vast array of papers.

She looked over her shoulder at us when Logan muttered a remark about a tornado having hit the room.

"Good. You're back," she said as she reached for another paper.

I wish I could say that her position wasn't distracting me, but it was.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep that was ruining my concentration.

Or maybe it was just that I really liked her in that position.

"You've got something?" I asked her, forcing myself to be professional.

"Two things actually," she replied as she shifted around to face us and then sat back on her heels. She looked at Logan and said, "First off, are you sleeping with Dr. Rodgers?"

He turned to me and asked, "When did you tell her?"

"He didn't," she answered. "But I'm a detective, remember? So that's a yes?"

"It's a yes."

"Good," she said with a smile. "I like her. But we'll talk more about that later. Right now, I'm looking at the many bank accounts of Wendy Stahl."

"And?"

"And I think I found a money trail."

TBC...


	31. Chapter 31

**Alex POV**

* * *

"What are you wearing under that dress?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I very much would, yes," Bobby answered with a grin. He came up behind me, running his hands around my waist and pulling me back against him.

"Maybe later," I teased.

"Maybe now," he countered.

He slid one hand down my leg as though he was going to reach beneath my dress, but then there was a knock on the door.

"Okay. Later," he conceded. "I don't want to have to explain to your dad why we were slow to answer the door."

"No, go ahead," I joked as he reluctantly moved away from me. "Tell him about your burning question."

"I think I'll just get the door," he said with a smile. He headed down the hall as I looked at myself for a last-minute analysis.

Tonight was the commissioner's dinner.

And honestly, I wasn't crazy about going without Bobby. Which was strange because I've never considered myself to be the kind of woman who needed her man with her at all times.

And okay, so maybe I'm _not_ like that.

But I did want him with me tonight. I was really, _really_ dreading this evening and going with Bobby would've made it bearable.

"Where's my little girl?" I heard my dad ask in an exuberant voice.

Okay, so maybe going with my dad wouldn't be so bad either. His excitement was enough to permeate my dismay.

"I'm ready, Dad," I said as I went down the hall. He stood in the foyer, dressed in a rented tuxedo and he had a huge smile on his face.

"You have got to be the most beautiful woman in the world," he told me. "Next to your mother of course. Don't you think so, Bobby?"

"Absolutely," he agreed quickly.

"It's a good thing you're taking me as your date," he said. "I'd hate to see you trying to fend off potential suitors all by yourself."

"Potential suitors? Dad, it's a work dinner."

"I know. But I'm looking at you and I'm telling you – every single man in the place is going to have trouble keeping his eyes off of you."

"It's not their eyes I'm worried about," Bobby said, giving my dad a look.

"I've got your back, son. Are you hanging out here alone?"

"No, I'm going to meet Logan for drinks."

"I'll be back fairly early," I told him. "I can change and meet up with you guys, if you're still out."

He wasn't going out with just Logan, but Rodgers, too. I was a little jealous. I hadn't seen the two of them in a social situation yet and I was really curious. I liked Logan a lot and Rodgers, too, but I wanted a first-hand look at how they were together.

"I'll have my phone on me," Bobby assured me. "We'll keep in touch."

He gave me a hug and then whispered into my ear.

"I guess you're not packing. I don't know where you'd put it."

"You'd be surprised."

"So…you are?"

"I'll be fine," I promised him. "Dad and I will go, we'll mingle, eat the rubber chicken, and then call it a night."

"Have fun," he said, finally releasing me.

"Oh, it's going to be great," my dad said. He held out his arm, so I linked my arm through his and together we left the apartment.

"You're really living here full time, huh?" he asked me as we went down the elevator. "How's that going?"

"It's only been a week since we spoke," I reminded him.

"That's not what I asked."

"It's going great, Dad. Yes, I live here all the time. It's working out even better than either of us expected. I love him. And we're very happy."

"Okay. You can't blame a father for asking."

We were quiet as he drove us to the restaurant. I'm not sure what my dad was thinking about, but I was picturing Bobby out with Logan and Rodgers.

"So how's your case coming?" he asked after several minutes.

"Which one? I've got a couple dozen going at the moment," I answered.

I wasn't going to get into the Hassan thing with him. It would just make him mad and I didn't want to ruin the night.

"Well, I saw you caught that McIvor fellow. And your frog killer. What about this thing with the judge?"

"Judge Schuler? Bobby and Logan are working that case. I think it might have been an attempted blackmail gone wrong."

"Oh yeah? Blackmail about what?"

"I can't really…"

"You can discuss it with your father. Who am I going to tell?"

"Well, it seems the judge had a penchant for prostitutes," I admitted.

"And how does that make him different from fifty percent of the male population?"

"Well, he's married. And he's important. And he apparently wasn't very good at hiding his addiction, except from his wife. He was spotted by someone with a creativity for making money and so he started paying a weekly stipend to keep his secret. Of course, he didn't stop soliciting hookers," I told him.

"And he tried to quit paying the blackmail?"

"That's what it looks like. There was DNA recovered from the victim and it matched up to a woman in the system, so Bobby and Logan are trying to track her down."

"Is she the killer?"

"No, but they think that the killer convinced her to help lure the judge to a place conducive to murder, so hopefully if they find her, she'll point them in the right direction."

"Huh. Man, I miss the old days," he said. "It's all the good stuff. Prostitutes, blackmail, murder…"

"Uh huh. And none of what I just said can be repeated," I reminded him. "Especially not tonight."

"I know," he said quickly. "What else is going on?"

"We're almost there. I'd need at least another hundred miles to tell you everything."

"I can keep driving," he offered. "We can blow off the dinner, go up to Connecticut…"

"You don't want to miss this."

"No. But I like having you all to myself. Maybe we can do this again sometime, without all of the fanfare."

"I'd like that," I agreed.

We arrived at the restaurant and my father handed the keys off to the valet and then we went inside.

It was just my luck that inside the lobby, we ran into Captain Alonzo.

"Captain Eames," she greeted with false cheerfulness. "I thought that maybe you weren't going to make it."

"Why would you think that?" I retorted.

"Well, you know, the chief wanted everyone to bring a date. I wasn't sure you'd be able to come up with someone," she said haughtily. Then she looked my father up and down and added, "Although…I see you found one. Sort of."

Great. I'd been here all of two minutes and I was ready to hit this woman.

"Captain Eames!"

I turned around to see that Detective Yuille had entered the lobby. He gravitated to Alonzo's side, but he held out his hand for me to shake.

"It's nice to see you," he continued. "Oh, and I finished up that statement you needed for the MacBryar case. I emailed it to you earlier today."

"Thank you," I said. I started to say more, but Alonzo spoke over me.

"Nick, you're not working tonight. You don't have to suck up to her."

"I wasn't sucking up," he argued. "I was just letting her know…"

"You're off the clock. Let it go."

Yuille looked back at me apologetically and then I realized that I still hadn't introduced my father, so I looked specifically at Yuille, ignoring Alonzo altogether.

"This is my father, Johnny Eames," I told him. "He's retired from the NYPD."

"It's nice to meet the people who work with my daughter," Dad said, shaking his hand.

"I don't work with your daughter," Alonzo said, even though he hadn't been speaking to her. "I'm the captain at the 6-8."

"A pleasure," my father said dryly, obviously having picked up on my distaste.

"Come on, Nick. Let's go find our table."

"What did you do to her?" my dad whispered once they'd walked away.

"I got the job at Major Case."

"Oh, well…shame on you for being good," he said with a smirk.

We headed into the restaurant where I was immediately pulled into Moran's grasp.

"Captain, there are some people I'd like you to meet," he told me. I glanced back at my father, but he waved me off and immediately began talking to the man standing next to him.

I spent the next hour meeting city bigwigs, all of whom felt it necessary to comment on either my size or my looks in relation to how difficult it was to believe that I was the head of Major Case.

Surely my tongue was bleeding from all of the times I had to bite it.

Every time laughter erupted somewhere in the room, I would see my father at the source. He would've been great as brass, but I was starting to question whether or not it was for me.

All I could think was how much I would rather be sitting in some dark bar with Bobby and Logan and Rodgers.

I finally slipped away from Moran and made my way to the bar. The only thing good about spending time with the chief was that Alonzo had stayed away. Apparently she only liked talking to him when it was behind my back.

"Double martini," I told the bartender and then I turned around to survey the crowd.

Uh huh. There was Alonzo, making a beeline for Moran.

I shook my head and turned around to retrieve my drink.

"Let me get that for you."

I turned back around, surprised to see that Yuille had come up beside me. Not too close, though, and he didn't look at me, as though he didn't want anyone to know he was talking to me.

"You don't have to do that," I declined as I reached into my purse.

"Please. It's the least I can do."

"For what?"

"I'm sorry about what happened earlier. Christy was rude and it was uncalled for."

"You spend a lot of time doing that, don't you?"

"Doing what?"

"Apologizing for her."

"It's just that she's…well, she's…"

"Hey, you don't need to explain it to me. I guess I just thought after the way she manipulated you into trying to hijack my career that maybe you saw her for what she truly is."

"I do," he admitted.

"And yet you're still together," I stated. "And here I took you for a smart man."

"It's…complicated."

"And it's none of my business," I added quickly. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"She's kind of made it your business. Whenever I say anything about work, she always twists it around."

"She made that complaint to Moran, didn't she? Stating that I put my detectives' lives at risk."

"I didn't tell her about it to get you into trouble. I was just…talking about my day."

I didn't have any response for him because it wasn't my place to tell him that he was being an idiot. Not outside of work anyway. And he'd been doing exceptional work at the office, so I couldn't say anything.

But it baffled me that he actually enjoyed spending time with her.

"Can we talk in private?" he asked me after the bartender brought his drink. I glanced across the room and saw that Alonzo was engrossed in conversation with the commissioner while my father was apparently telling some amusing story to the mayor.

"Sure," I agreed. I led the way into the lobby, but there were people in there, too, so we continued outside.

"That day after we spoke in your office," he began. "I went home that night and told her that we were through."

"Yuille, you don't…"

"No, listen. Please. I told her that what she was doing was wrong and that I didn't want any part of it anymore. I know you offered for me to pretend like it just didn't work, but I couldn't do that."

"I appreciate that. I'm sure it didn't go over well."

"Not at all."

"But you're still with her," I said, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"You saw her with Moran in there tonight," he said quietly. "She has him on speed dial."

"So?"

"She knows a lot of people in the department," he said pointedly.

"Meaning…what? You're afraid she'll start a smear campaign about you? I have a little bit of experience with that. Trust me. It's not that bad."

"She said she'd get me fired," he stated. "She said that she's the reason I got the job in Major Case, and that not only can she get me transferred out, but she can also have me canned altogether."

"She threatened you with that? In exchange for what? She wants you to keep trying to get rid of me?"

"No. I mean, yes, but mainly she didn't want me to leave."

"She's blackmailing you into staying in the relationship?" I asked incredulously.

He looked down at the ground and shrugged.

"And you're letting her?" I added.

"I love my job," he insisted. "And I've seen what she can do to people who get on her bad side. And you know, I work a lot of hours, so it's not like I have to spend all that much time with her."

I was seething on the inside, mostly at Alonzo, but partly at Yuille for letting her get away with it.

"Are you asking me for advice?" I asked him hotly. "This is your last chance to put that boss-employee barrier back up."

"I'm asking," he said.

"Okay, here it is. You're in _my_ department. She can't touch you. I don't know how you got into Major Case and I don't care. The fact is, you do excellent work and you're not going anywhere unless you suddenly start screwing that up or you request it yourself. Do you hear what I'm saying to you?"

"How can you be sure? She knows Moran…"

"_You_ know Moran," I reminded him. "And besides, if she had so much pull with him, don't you think I'd be out on my ass? She gave it her best shot trying to get rid of me and she had you helping her, but I'm still around."

I paused for a minute to catch my breath, and as I looked at him, I realized how young he was.

I mean, I _knew_. I'd seen his file.

But staring at him now, it really hit me, and I knew that Alonzo had to be at least fifteen years older, maybe even twenty.

He was so confident in the office that it had never occurred to me that he might act differently at home.

She'd really done a number on his psyche.

"I'm not going to tell you what to do with your relationship. That has to be your decision," I said. "But I can promise you that her threats are empty. I've got your back."

He nodded and then smiled self-consciously.

"I bet you're trying to figure out how we ever got together in the first place, aren't you?"

"I suppose she must have some redeeming qualities," I admitted. "Although I have no idea what they might be."

He chuckled and shook his head before saying, "She…well…"

"Nick! What the hell are you doing out here?" Alonzo shouted from the doorway. "And with her!"

"We were discussing a case," I said, turning to face her.

"Now is not the time for case work," she fired back.

"No, you're right," I agreed as I moved past her. "It's not."

I glanced back at Yuille who was still standing on the sidewalk and then I went inside, leaving the two of them out there alone.

"Where'd you go?" my dad asked me when I got back to our table.

"Just to get some air. How are things in here?"

"Oh, great. Did you know that the commissioner's First Deputy is considering retiring in a few years?"

"I didn't know that," I answered distractedly.

Yuille and Alonzo still hadn't come back inside.

Was he telling her what I said, or was he breaking up with her?

Or was he begging for forgiveness for having gone outside with me in the first place?

"And guess who the commissioner's first choice is to replace him?"

"Probably the current Deputy."

"That's what _I_ said, but that's not what _he_ said. It's Moran," he told me in a conspiratorial whisper. "Which would leave his office open."

Alonzo walked in and looked my way with open hostility. She went straight to Moran's table and started a conversation.

I glanced back at the door and Yuille came in. He looked at me, too, only his expression was one of concern. He came directly over to me.

"Alex, did you hear me?" my dad said.

"Just a minute," I replied as I got up. Yuille approached me and offered for me to shake his hand.

"It's been a pleasure, Captain. I'll see you on Monday." He turned to my father and gave him a nod. "Mr. Eames."

"You're leaving?"

"I'm not authorized to attend this function," he said carefully, and then he smiled briefly. "It's above my pay grade. So unless I'm the guest of an invitee…"

"And you're not?"

"Not anymore," he stated. "But get ready. She threatened to pull out the big guns."

"I'm fine with that," I told him.

"Are you sure? Because she already blames you. In fact, she suggested that there was something between us."

"I didn't expect her to go down without a fight. Keep your head up. You'll be fine."

"Yes ma'am."

He left and I sat down, letting out a heavy sigh.

"What the hell was all of that about?"

"Nothing, Dad. So you were saying…Moran?"

"Oh. Yeah. In a few years his spot will be open."

"Okay…"

"That'll be perfect timing. You'll have three years in Major Case by then. Maas will move up, you'll take his spot, and boom…by age fifty, you'll be the Chief of D's."

"You've got it all planned out, huh?" I said on a laugh.

But I felt eyes on me, so I turned to see that Alonzo and Moran were both looking at me.

Great.

She was probably telling him that I'd been making out with one of my detectives.

There was too much irony in that thought to even begin to analyze it.

But I couldn't sit back and wait for things to happen.

I needed to go on the offensive.

"I'll be right back," I told my father.

And then I got up and went to Moran's table.

TBC...


	32. Chapter 32

**Liz POV**

* * *

Mike and I sat in Pete's, waiting for Goren to show up.

He was coming alone, which surprised me. I kind of always figured that he and Eames hung out together on the weekends, even if they weren't actually dating.

I'm not sure why I thought that.

They'd certainly never shown any hint of an inappropriate relationship.

Okay, that wasn't entirely true.

I'd seen hints.

Nothing overt, but still…

There'd been the time when Eames' husband's murder case was reopened. Goren had called her Alex.

I'd stood off to the side feeling every bit like a voyeur as the two of them looked across the room at each other.

And yeah, I know.

It was just him using her first name.

But it was the _way_ that he said it.

And then there was that catastrophic day when I'd caved to pressure from Danny.

I'd violated Goren's trust and he came to the morgue to let me know how much I'd hurt him.

I didn't need him to tell me that.

I already knew, but he certainly deserved the right to unload on me.

Anyway, that day he'd been completely out of control.

Until Eames showed up.

He was yelling at me, tossing things around, and then she quietly suggested that they take a walk.

He instantly followed her out of the room.

It wasn't my place to speculate on what Goren and Eames did on their own time, but I guess I'd just always assumed they were together.

I _wanted_ them to be together.

Because watching them, even with the barely-there hints, made me a believer in true love.

So I'd been a little disappointed to learn that he was coming alone.

"What time did you tell him?" I asked Mike as I checked my watch.

"Six. I'm sure he'll be here any minute," he replied, and then he kissed me on the cheek. "Relax," he whispered.

"I know," I said on a sigh.

It had been two days since Mike told me that Goren had figured us out, but I hadn't seen him since so I hadn't been able to gauge his reaction.

Mike said that he liked me, but I was anxious to see that for myself. Because this was important. Goren was Mike's partner and best friend. I was worried that maybe he would think I wasn't good enough.

"It's just…strange," I continued. "I've known him for years and years and now suddenly we're going to see each other in a social situation."

"You've known me for longer," he reminded me. "And now I get to see you naked. I think you've already handled _strange_ just fine."

"Can we not talk about me being naked in front of Goren?" I asked, although I couldn't keep from laughing. "Let me ease my way into this."

"Okay," he agreed as he leaned in to kiss me again. "But I already told him how incredible the sex is."

"You did not."

"I did. I mean, I did before he figured out that it was you," he told me.

He moved his mouth from my cheek to my lips, kissing me in a slow, comfortable way that spoke of familiarity and emotion.

It sent a wave of arousal through me that was a now-customary sensation whenever Mike was around.

Over the past couple of days, now that we'd both come to grips with the change in our relationship, things had been unbelievably good.

I mean, they were great before, but now it was just so much…more.

And I hadn't been kidding when I told him that it wouldn't be long before I fell in love with him.

I was already halfway there. Maybe even more.

He was so sweet and interesting and attentive and…well, I could go on and on thinking about all of the things that I like about him.

He had a way about him that made me forget about everything else.

Like right now. I didn't care about where we were or who was watching. I just cared about how he made me feel.

I moved my hand up into his hair and changed the angle of the kiss, eliciting a groan from him that had me ready to drag him back to my place.

Of course, that was when Goren showed up.

He cleared his throat loudly as he sat down at the table.

"Sorry I'm late, although it doesn't look like you two had any trouble keeping yourselves entertained."

"Not at all," Mike agreed. "How'd things go with you?"

He shrugged and instead turned to me. I was struggling to keep the color from flooding my cheeks, but it wasn't working.

"How's it going, Doctor?"

"You're going to have to call me Liz," I said, surprised by his relaxed body language.

He was always so intense whenever I saw him at a crime scene or in the morgue, and yet now he was sitting back in the booth looking extremely casual.

"Liz," he agreed with a nod. "Interesting place you picked."

"I live around the corner," I explained.

"My old partner, Lennie Briscoe, used to bring me here," Mike told him. "I came here after our first day. That's when I ran into Liz."

"He was drowning his sorrows," I added. "Worried that Eames was going to tear him to shreds. Where is she, by the way?"

"Eames?" Goren repeated. "I'm not…exactly sure."

"Is your date coming later?" Mike asked him.

"You have a date?"

Was I really so wrong about the two of them?

"Yeah," he said. "She had something else going on this evening, but she's going to call when she's finished and hopefully she'll be able to meet us here."

It may sound silly, but his whole face changed when he mentioned her.

I couldn't wait to find out who this woman was, especially since I couldn't picture him with anyone but Eames.

* * *

**Bobby POV**

I took a cab to Pete's, well aware that I was running behind schedule, but not overly concerned.

It was dinner with Logan and Rodgers. It's not like they were going to be upset with me for being late.

I hadn't wanted to leave the apartment until after Johnny left with Alex. I'm not sure why, other than that she looked utterly stunning and I wanted to take advantage of looking at her for as long as possible.

In fact, I'd wanted to do a whole lot more than just look, but of course, that was when Johnny had shown up.

So I'd sent them on their way and then I made the mistake of glancing over the Schuler file one more time.

That's what really threw me behind schedule.

When I finally tore my attention away from the case and noticed the time, I grabbed my jacket and turned out the lights and headed downstairs.

Alex and I had made the decision to tell Rodgers about our relationship tonight. Logan was serious about her and since she was going to be involved in his life then it would be difficult for him to maintain the secret.

Not only that, but he'd been right when he said she was trustworthy. She'd made the mistake once, but I was confident that it would never happen again.

So we planned to tell her, but I was going to wait until Alex showed up.

I walked into Pete's and did a quick visual scan of the interior. I'd never been here before, but it looked like my kind of place.

I almost looked right past Logan and Rodgers because I hadn't expected to see them kissing.

I made my way towards their table, expecting that they would quit by the time I got there, but they didn't, so I cleared my throat as I sat down.

"Sorry I'm late, although it doesn't look like you two had any trouble keeping yourselves entertained."

Rodgers was embarrassed, I could tell, but Logan just grinned.

"Not at all," Mike agreed. "How'd things go with you?"

I didn't want to think about Alex right now. She'd looked so damn beautiful and now she was out socializing with every power-player in the city…not that I was jealous or anything. At least not much.

I blew off his question and instead focused on Rodgers. We got the formalities out of the way and she seemed to relax a little until I mentioned that my date would be coming later.

"You have a date?"

"Yeah. She had something else going on this evening, but she's going to call when she's finished and hopefully she'll be able to meet us here."

Which I hoped was very soon. Not because I didn't enjoy the present company, but because it was Saturday night and we spent enough time apart during the week.

I wanted her here with me.

But I didn't want to get into a Q & A with Liz about my date, so instead I shifted the focus to the case.

"So I glanced over the file again," I said to Logan. It was going to take me a little bit of time to get used to seeing him sitting so cozily with Rodgers, but he looked happy. They both did, so I wasn't going to knock it.

"You found something," Logan stated, then he turned to Rodgers. "See? He does that. It's the damndest thing you ever saw. We'll look at a file a hundred times and then he'll pick it up randomly and solve the case. Eames does it, too. She's halfway to solving the Hassan case using the same evidence Goren and I already looked over."

"The Hassan case," I said carefully.

"Yeah, I um…I told her about that," he admitted.

"I wouldn't dream of saying anything," Rodgers spoke up quickly.

"I know. I guess I just didn't think about it before. So you know about the bust?"

She nodded, looking worriedly at Logan, and so then I felt bad. I didn't blame him for telling her.

Hell, it had surely helped because he'd been strung tight when he left the hotel that day and then he'd come back with his game face on.

I had to credit Rodgers for his change in attitude.

I stated that out loud to alleviate the tension and then told her, "Yeah, I don't know what happened Wednesday evening, but do more of that any time we have an undercover."

"We just smoked a few cigarettes," Logan replied with a shrug and a smile.

"Uh huh. That's what I thought. Anyway, we've been looking for Misty Hahn, right?"

Logan nodded, and Rodgers said, "That's the hooker who was blowing the judge."

"Right," I answered, chuckling at her blunt description. "Her arrest record showed several counts of prostitution, a drug charge, and a B & E."

"And her last known is a flop house," Logan finished. "But she's not there. I'm with you. So what's new?"

"Guess who posted her bail."

"Her lawyer. We checked that."

"Uh huh. But we didn't check it enough. It was the same lawyer, every time. A junior assistant with the firm Bingham, Phillips and Ullman."

"They're high class," Rodgers stated.

"Right. Too high class to be dealing with a repeat offender like Hahn."

"So what is it?"

"I pulled the full list of attorneys employed at BP&U. There were nearly two hundred of them. And one of them is named Hahn."

"Her father?"

"That would be my guess. And that's what we're going to find out first thing Monday morning."

We talked about the case for a little longer while we ate dinner and had a few rounds of drinks, and then I finally got a text from Alex.

_**We're leaving now. I'll go home and change and then be right there.**_

I knew she'd mentioned earlier that she'd want to change clothes first, but I didn't want her to. I wanted to run my hands over the smoothness of the silky fabric of her dress.

And I still wanted to see what she was wearing underneath.

_**Don't change. Just come.**_

"Is that your date?" Logan asked me with a knowing smile as I tucked my cell phone back into my pocket.

"She's on her way," I said.

* * *

**Liz POV**

I learned something about Goren during dinner.

I'd always known that he was smart. And of course, he's easy on the eyes.

But I always thought he was so serious and driven.

And surely he is, but he's not _only_ that.

In fact, he's got a great sense of humor.

After the initial awkwardness of shifting from work colleagues to friends – and admittedly, most of the awkwardness was on my part – he settled into an easy and entertaining conversation.

I'd always heard that his social skills were stunted, but that couldn't be further from the truth.

He was funny and polite and I was really glad that he'd figured us out because I thought it was going to be a lot of fun to spend more time with him on a social level.

And I was really curious about this woman.

I wanted to dislike her just on principle.

It should be Eames who was meeting him here.

I watched him as he pulled out his cell phone, having apparently received a text, and he smiled as he read it. He quickly typed a reply and put away his phone.

"Is that your date?" Mike asked.

"She's on her way," he replied.

"Who is this woman?" I asked suddenly. "How long have the two of you been dating?"

"I don't want to talk about her behind her back. She'll be here in a minute and we'll give you the whole story."

"So it's serious."

I watched him as he looked at Logan and then back at me.

"We're living together," he told me. Then he got up from the table, excusing himself to the restroom.

"He's living with someone?" I whisper-shouted at Mike. "I just can't believe it."

"Why not? He's a nice guy."

"No, I mean I can't believe I was so wrong. I would've bet money on him and Eames."

"You never know what's going on in someone's personal life when you only know them at work," he said reasonably. "No one would've guessed about us. Except for Goren. And Eames."

"I guess so," I mumbled. "Huh."

I picked up my drink and drained the rest of it as Goren came back to the table.

The waiter was right behind him, so we ordered another round, plus one for the date.

"Double vodka martini," Goren requested.

"She's a heavy drinker," I remarked critically, feeling inexplicably catty toward this mystery woman.

"She had a difficult evening," he replied, giving me a quizzical look.

"You just ordered a double bourbon," Mike pointed out to me. "Your fourth."

I shushed him, but then was caught by surprise to hear a woman say, "So we're on round four. I guess I need to get busy."

I looked up to see Eames standing at the edge of the table and I was shocked in more ways than one.

First of all, she was here.

Secondly, she was dressed in a beautiful evening gown.

And third, Goren stood up and kissed her hello.

"This is your date?" I asked him when he finally released her and the two of them sat down across from us. I looked at Eames and repeated, "You're his date?"

"It's a good thing," Mike said. "I think if any other woman had shown up, Liz was going to stab her with the steak knife. She was pulling for you, Eames."

"It's just…I'm just…I knew I wasn't wrong!"

"Sorry for the cloak and dagger," Eames told me. "I already hated that I had to miss out on most of the fun, so Bobby wanted to wait for me."

"Where have you been? You look absolutely gorgeous."

"The commissioner's dinner. It was required," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"How'd it go?" Goren asked her. He put his arm around her and stared at her intently as she formulated her response.

"Well, I caused a couple to break up, I was accused of sleeping with one of my detectives – not you by the way," she said as she glanced at Bobby. "I yelled at Moran and then Commissioner Zaring. Oh and I got someone fired. So all in all, I think it went well."

TBC...


	33. Chapter 33

**Alex POV**

* * *

"That sounds like a hell of a party. I think I need details."

I looked across the table at Logan where he sat comfortably next to Rodgers and I couldn't help but smile.

"I think I need details about you two first," I told them.

Because ever since Thursday morning when I'd gotten Logan to admit that I'd correctly guessed her identity, I hadn't gotten much more information.

I mean, we were _busy_. And I didn't spend much non-working time with Logan, or at least not lately.

Bobby had quizzed him a little bit, but he didn't ask the right questions.

Maybe I'd need to go out with Rodgers some time, just the two of us.

"I could say the same thing," Rodgers fired back good-naturedly.

Yeah, we were going to have to have lunch or something.

"First things first," Bobby interrupted. "What happened at the dinner?"

So I gave Rodgers a brief backstory on the people involved and then I told them all about my run-in with Alonzo in the lobby and the subsequent conversation with Yuille outside.

"I bet she was pretty ticked when she found her boyfriend outside with you," Logan commented.

"She was a little peeved," I admitted. "And I guess even more so after he broke up with her."

"So she was blackmailing him in order to keep him in her bed?" Rodgers questioned.

"You'd do the same to me," Logan teased her. "You know you can't live without me."

"Well, no," she agreed, her voice softening as she turned to look at him. "But I'd never want you to stay if it wasn't what you wanted."

The funny thing is that once I'd pegged Rodgers as Logan's girlfriend, I'd tried to picture the two of them together.

I hadn't been able to do it.

But now that I was looking at them, I couldn't imagine either of them with anyone else. They were perfect for one another.

"So what happened when they came back inside?" Bobby asked, getting the conversation back on track.

"Alonzo pounced on Moran after sending me a death stare. Yuille came in and told me that he had to leave the party since he was no longer the date of a captain."

"Ouch," Logan remarked. "She booted him in the middle of a function?"

"I don't think she ever expected him to walk away. And I don't know. Maybe she told him he'd have to leave, thinking that might make him change his mind."

"Well, good for him for leaving," Bobby commented. Logan nodded his agreement.

"So then what?" Rodgers asked. "Alonzo told Moran that you were having an affair with Yuille?"

"Not exactly," I replied. "I thought that's where she was going, but it turned out I was wrong."

I paused as the waiter brought our drinks and I took a sip before continuing.

"I decided that I needed to get ahead of whatever lie Alonzo was going to tell, so I went to speak directly with Moran."

"While Alonzo was there?"

"Of course. I'd had enough of her going to him behind my back. It was time to get everything out in the open."

"I told you she's fearless," Bobby said proudly to Logan.

"I didn't need you to tell me that," he replied. "Go on, Eames."

"When I got to the table, Moran could tell that it wasn't going to be an appropriate conversation to be held in front of guests, so he got up and suggested that the three of us go somewhere to speak in private. We left the dining area and found a small private-party room."

"Oh, to be on a fly on the wall in that room," Logan muttered.

Rodgers shushed him and so I kept going.

"As soon as the door closed, Moran turned to me and said '_Captain Alonzo tells me that you're sleeping with one of your detectives._' And of course, I was in a complete panic."

"On the inside," Bobby clarified. "You never panic on the outside."

"Sometimes I do," I corrected. "But you're right. This time, I held it in. I also assumed that she'd said it was Yuille since...well, because of everything. So I told Moran that Alonzo was upset with me for offering Yuille advice that had ultimately brought about the end of their relationship, but that there was nothing going on between us. And so then Alonzo yelled out that she knew I wasn't sleeping with Yuille because he'd never stoop so low as to be with the likes of me."

"Alex…"

"Her words, not mine."

"So who is it supposed to be?" Rodgers questioned.

"Who am I supposedly sleeping with?" I asked with a grin. "Apparently, Logan."

"What?" Logan said, nearly choking on his drink. "Me?"

"Yeah, I know. I have no idea where that came from. The only thing I can think of is that Yuille mentioned that you were new and that you'd been unemployed for a year before going straight into Major Case…she must have assumed that I talked Moran into bringing you on board since you're my lover."

"No way Moran bought that," Bobby said. "He's the one who went to find Logan. You didn't even know he'd been hired until the first day."

"Yeah, _we_ know that. But no one else did. And that was when I realized that Moran wasn't mad at me. He was mad at _her_. So then he reminded me that this was the latest in a long line of accusations brought against me by Captain Alonzo and he asked what I had to say for myself. More specifically, he asked for my response to any and all of the allegations."

"He knew you'd been taking one for the team."

"Right. He knew she was behind the anonymous complaints and that she wanted to see me get fired, or at the very least removed from my position."

"So you told him?"

"I told him every underhanded thing she'd done over the past two weeks and I told him how she'd threatened Yuille with his job if he ended their personal relationship. And of course, I steadfastly denied any involvement with you, Logan. Nothing personal."

"None taken," he replied. "Although it's nice to know that I _am_ the type who would stoop so low."

"What did Moran say?"

"He asked Alonzo for her response and of course she pinned it all on Yuille. She said that the sabotage was his idea because he wanted her transferred into Major Case so that he could continue to work for her. Everything she's done and said has been at his bidding."

"Moran didn't buy that, did he?"

"Well, Yuille wasn't there to defend himself, so Moran stated that he'd had enough of the juvenile games. He fired them both."

"What? So Yuille got fired?"

"No," Bobby said, knowing full well I wouldn't have stood for that. I flashed him a smile and he nodded at me. "This is where the yelling at Moran came into play, right?"

"It's almost like you were there," I replied. "So yeah, Alonzo left in a snit, spouting off threats of getting her PBA rep and suing the department. But before Moran could leave, I told him that Yuille didn't deserve to be fired. He argued back that if he'd been party to the attempted sabotage, then he was just as guilty as Alonzo."

"Which I almost agree with," Rodgers said.

"Yeah, but he did risk his life to save Eames from the frog," Logan told her.

"And he came clean with me about what was going on," I added. "Aside from that, I promised him that I'd have his back. So Moran and I got into a bit of a shouting match over Yuille's culpability and that was when the commissioner walked in."

"I've met him a few times," Rodgers spoke up. "He's awfully political, isn't he?"

"Uh huh," I agreed. "You should've seen him on the McIvor case."

"I saw his press conference. He acted as if he'd single-handedly caught the man."

"Which you know he didn't," Logan said. "It was all me. Well, and Goren."

"You can take the credit," Bobby encouraged. "You sniffed him out the first time we met him."

"Yeah, but you came up with the idea about that bribery check."

"Okay, I'm telling a story here," I said on a laugh. "Can I finish?"

"Please," Rodgers said. "So you yelled at Zaring, too?"

"He came in at a bad time. Moran actually seems to like the fact that I tell him what I think, but Zaring is a different breed altogether and he came in when I was telling Moran that personnel changes in Major Case should be at my discretion and that his job was to keep the commissioner happy."

Logan chuckled and Bobby looked at me with concern.

"What did he say?"

"He said that I should remember who I was talking to. And that since I was dressed like a lady, I might consider acting like one."

"And what did you say?" Logan prompted.

"I said it was _with_ _whom I was talking_ not _who I was talking to_. And there was nothing unladylike about speaking my mind and that if he wanted a lapdog for the job then he should go run after Alonzo and hire her back."

I picked up my drink and tossed the rest of it back while the others looked at me in amazement.

"So is he giving you severance pay?" Logan asked me at last.

"Zaring looked at Moran, and then Moran started laughing. He slapped Zaring on the back and said, '_I told you she was the best man for the job_'. And then he told me that if I wanted to keep Yuille, it was my decision. And he asked if I had any suggestions for someone to fill the captain's job at the 6-8."

"Eames…wow," Rodgers said, shaking her head.

"It's Alex," I corrected and then I waved to the waiter so that he would bring me another drink.

"So…did Johnny have a good time?" Bobby asked me with barely contained amusement.

"Oh yeah. When I came out of the back room with Moran and Zaring, I found Dad at the bar doing shots with the mayor."

"You took your dad to the dinner?" Rodgers asked me.

"I had to have a date," I said with a shrug. "I wasn't going to take anyone else."

"So you guys are living together. When did that happen?"

"We had to live together for our undercover with the FBI," Bobby told her. "Of course, I was already in love with her by that time, even though I hadn't said anything."

"Me, too," I said. "So we were living together and pretending to be a couple while under surveillance…it was too much. I mean, I have willpower, but not that much."

"How far into the assignment did you get before you came clean with each other?" Logan asked.

Because of course, he'd known about us, but we'd only stumbled across him after we were already together.

In fact, the very day we got together.

"Ten weeks," Bobby answered.

"You do have willpower," Rodgers remarked.

"It's called having blinders on," I corrected. "Neither of us believed that the other one was interested. And the situation, having to be affectionate in front of others, made it all that much more complicated. Finally, Bobby yelled at me, telling me he loved me. He seemed pretty ticked off about it, too," I said.

I put my hand on top of his, where it was resting on my leg, and subtly moved it a little higher on my thigh.

"I didn't get mad until you tried to tell me that I was wrong," he reminded me.

"I think you're both crazy. I've thought you were in love with each other for years."

"It's true," Logan said. "She asked me about you guys several times."

"And you lied to me," she told him, although without any heat.

"I didn't lie. I just creatively answered the question. I promised them I wouldn't tell."

"I know. So what would happen?" she asked.

"If we got caught? I don't know for sure. We think Maas knows already. Maybe. And Moran has to suspect," I answered. "But if it was substantiated, they'd probably transfer Bobby out of the department."

"That's why I keep going to the bathroom," Bobby explained. "I just make a quick pass through the room to make sure that we don't know anyone in here. Although, this place is great. It's dark and not very crowded."

"What would you do if you saw someone in here tonight?" Rodgers asked.

"Oh, then I'd just say I was here with you," Bobby told her.

"He'd throw you to the wolves," I said to Logan.

"Nah, I'll say I'm here with Liz, too."

"A threesome," I mused. "Interesting. I think I need pictures."

TBC...


	34. Chapter 34

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Is it any wonder that I'm so in love with her?

I couldn't dream up a more perfect woman if I tried.

She'd faced down her nemesis.

She'd stood her ground with the chief.

She'd even corrected the commissioner's grammar.

And she was wearing absolutely nothing under her dress.

Oh, I'm sure she'd been wearing something earlier, while we were out.

But when we got home, she'd gone into the kitchen.

"I need some water," she told me. "Do you want something?"

"Just you," I answered. And it was the truth. I'd been thinking about not much else for the past six hours. "And don't take those shoes off."

She laughed but I knew that she'd humor me.

I couldn't resist making the request. I liked the way she looked in the shoes.

So I went into the living room and sat down heavily on the couch.

It had been a long week, but fortunately we'd been able to catch up on a little bit of our sleep last night.

And tonight had been a lot of fun. It was going to take me awhile to get the hang of calling Rodgers Liz, but I was going to give it my best shot.

I leaned my head back against the couch, letting my eyes fall closed until I felt a hand on my knee.

Alex was standing in front of me, still in the dress and heels, and I was hit by a pang of longing so strong that it nearly took my breath away.

"Now you can find out," she said. I sat up a little straighter and looked at her, unsure of what she meant. "The answer to your question."

"What's underneath?" I asked with a grin.

"Well, I'm not just going to tell you," she said suggestively.

Good.

Because I wanted to find out for myself.

I leaned over and started at the hem of the dress, where it touched the tops of her feet.

I used both hands, one on each leg, and leisurely worked my way upwards beneath the smooth fabric.

I was fully hard by the time I reached her knees.

Okay, that's not true.

I was fully hard before I even started.

I was _painfully_ hard by the time I reached her knees.

And yet I still wanted to draw it out.

I slowed my pace even more, inching my way up along the outside of her thighs.

Her breathing quickened and I looked up at her face in time to see her close her eyes.

Her obvious enjoyment filled me with a sense of satisfaction.

_I _was the one who could make her feel like this.

_I _was the one who sent her heart racing.

By this time, my hands had reached the point where my suspicion was confirmed.

"I'm really going to need you to take this dress off," I growled as I grabbed onto her firm backside with both hands. I pulled her closer to me, hugging her against me as my fingers continued roam.

"You have to let go," she replied softly.

"Never."

"Bobby," she said, laughing lightly and stepping fractionally away from me. I finally pulled my hands away and she slowly unzipped the dress, keeping her eyes locked on mine.

When she finished, she slipped the fabric from her shoulders and the whole thing fell to the floor.

"Did I tell you that you're beautiful?" I managed to say, unable to tear my eyes away from her as she continued to stand in front of me.

"You might have mentioned that."

"Well, I was wrong. Beautiful doesn't touch you."

She smiled, dropping her head self-consciously, but I got up from the couch and put my hand under her chin, tilting her head up towards mine.

"It's not even close," I added before bringing my lips down to hers.

Her fingers worked feverishly on the buttons of my shirt as I continued to kiss her, backing her up across the living room.

She pulled my shirt from my arms and then started on my pants, all while never missing a step or losing the rhythm of our kiss.

She got my pants down just as I backed her into the living room wall, and I was suddenly holding onto my control by a tenuous thread.

I hand one hand in her hair and the other holding her flush against me, close enough that I could feel the heat of her and it was almost enough to do me in.

But I held back.

Instead, I turned her around and pushed roughly into her. Her hands were splayed on the wall in front of her and so I covered them with mine, putting my fingers through hers and holding on while I maintained a frenzied pace.

I alternately used my tongue and teeth along the side of her neck and her accompanying sounds of pleasure were driving me insane.

I increased the tempo even more, gripping tighter onto her hands as I drove into her harder and harder until she screamed out my name and I let myself go right along with her.

For a moment, I literally thought my heart was going to stop beating, but it felt so good that I didn't care.

"Oh my God," she said in a breathy whisper. "Bobby…"

"Uh huh," I agreed, unable to formulate any actual words.

We stood together for several minutes until at last I forced myself to move, but we didn't make it far.

We settled onto the couch where I pulled her feet onto my lap and took off her shoes.

"I've been thinking about doing that all night," she admitted.

"Taking off your shoes?"

"No," she said on a laugh. She glanced in the direction of where we'd just been and said, "_That_."

"You were thinking about it, too?" I asked with interest as I started massaging her feet. "I could barely get through dinner. And then you had to come in with your bad ass Alex story…"

"Bad ass?" she said, shaking her head. "I just said what needed to be said, that's all."

"I know," I responded, leaning over her. "I love that about you."

I ran my fingers up to her collar bone and then along her throat and over her lips.

"In fact, I love everything about you," I amended. I kissed her lightly and then shifted back on the cushion and continued working on her feet. She'd been wearing those heels for more than six hours. It made my feet hurt just thinking about it.

"So do you think I'm right about Yuille?" she asked, shifting the conversation to work even as she tilted her head back and closed her eyes.

"You mean is he worthy of your support?"

She nodded, so I said, "I think so. Don't get me wrong. I was ready to kill him last week at this time. But I think I almost understand how he got caught up going down the wrong path. And he was man enough to go to you and come clean. So yeah, I think you're right."

"I know you talked me up tonight, saying how I never panic, but Bobby…when Moran asked me if I was sleeping with one of my detectives…"

"It sounds like you did great," I assured her. "And Moran knows."

"You think?" she asked, opening her eyes to look at me.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I keep going back and forth about that. But I think that unless we throw it in his face, he's never going to say anything."

"So what do you think of Rodgers?" she asked, changing topics again. "Or I guess I mean Liz."

"I would've never thought of her that way," I admitted. "But some of the things Logan told me…"

I trailed off and shook my head, but she propped herself up on her elbows, instantly curious.

"Like what? Like sex stuff?"

"Uh huh. I mean, he hasn't said much since I found out it was her, but before I knew who it was…I guess he felt more comfortable talking about it since I didn't have a face to put with the activities."

"It's not like we didn't hole up in his spare bedroom every chance we got last fall," she stated.

"That's true," I agreed. "Anyway, he said that he'd go to her place, and sometimes it would be an hour or two before either of them said anything."

"Really," she mused.

"And she got him hooked on smoking after sex. He said they've been through half a dozen packs."

"One at a time?"

"Well, one at a time for each of them."

"I'm impressed," she said with a grin. "Sounds like they're almost as bad as we are."

"Almost as good as we are," I corrected. "And I'm happy for him. It couldn't have been fun for him, always hanging out with the two of us and then going home alone. Or when we'd go back to his place and he'd have to listen to you calling out my praises."

"Oh, I don't think I did that," she said, laughing out loud again.

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that," I teased. "Oh, I found a lead on the Schuler case."

I told her about the connection to the law firm.

"You're going over there on Monday?" she asked.

"We'll check it out. If we can find Misty, we may be able to get her to talk. And since she'd hiding, it's likely that she knows something."

"Do you think she was in on it?"

"Probably not. But I'd like to hear it from her."

We talked for another hour or so, both of us mindless of the time. She filled me in on more details from her dinner out and I told her how I'd walked in on Rodgers and Logan in an unexpected public display of affection.

And then I made love to her again.

Although I guess the first time didn't really count as making love, but it was always about love as far as I was concerned. Some times were just more intense than others.

And since I'd felt the stirring of renewed life in me as I moved the massage up to her calves, I wasn't going to waste the opportunity.

There would be no call-outs.

No interruptions.

Or at least, I didn't think so.

As long as another judge wasn't killed, then we should be good.

Of course, Alex's phone could ring on another case, but…I shoved those thoughts from my mind as I stretched out over top of her.

"And you call me the bad ass," she commented with a smile as I leaned in to kiss her. "You are really quite impressive, Detective Goren."

"I haven't even started yet," I reminded her.

"Your reputation precedes you."

This time when I pushed into her, I did it slowly, incrementally, drawing out the sensation until at last I was fully surrounded by her.

"I always want to go slow with you," I said in a low voice. "But then I can't seem to stop myself. You just do something to me…but this time, I promise I'm going to take it slow. We've got all night, right?"

It turned out that I was only half right.

I did take it slow.

I made love to her for damn near an hour, and it was one of the best hours of my life. We had such a connection, such a bond…

But after we finished, and we finally got up the energy to move to the bedroom, that was when the phone rang.

It was late, and we're used to late night calls, but damn…I'd really hoped we'd have all night.

"Yours or mine?" she asked me on a sigh as we changed directions and went back into the living room.

"It's mine," I answered.

But then I looked at her quizzically because my phone ringing at this time of night didn't make much sense anymore.

Alex was the one who should be giving me the notification.

I grabbed it from the coffee table.

"It's Banta," I told her before answering. She was instantly on alert and came to stand next to me.

"Goren, I've got some news."

"I figured you did. It's two a.m. What's going on?"

"Hassan's out. His lawyer pulled some strings and got him released."

"And you've got a tail on him, right?" I asked sharply.

"We did, but we lost him. We have no idea where he is."

TBC...


	35. Chapter 35

**Alex POV**

* * *

"What the hell is wrong with him?"

Bobby didn't answer me, but I hadn't expected that he would.

I was in a full-blown rant at the moment, but I figured it was better to do it now than at the federal building.

"How could they lose him? And what happened to the Patriot Act? What kind of lawyer does he have anyway? This is unbelievable. We should've put him in the NYPD lock-up. No wait, better yet, we should've kept Banta away from the sting so that it wouldn't have gotten screwed up in the first place! Then we'd have Hassan dead to rights and no lawyer in the world could've gotten him out, but no…Banta had to act like a goddamn rookie and rush the suspect at the first sign of movement!"

I roughly pulled on my clothes and then continued to pace around the bedroom while Bobby got dressed.

"He thought he had a gun," I said in annoyance. "A _gun_. We'd already established that Hassan doesn't do any of the killing. That's why he has body guards. Or rather he _had_ body guards. They're all dead. I wonder how many more he has waiting in the wings. Do you think he's rebuilt his entourage?"

I paused and glanced at Bobby as he tied his shoes. He looked up at me and shook his head.

"I don't know."

"What would he do? Did he go back to Africa? Is he even allowed to leave the country?"

"The FBI didn't file formal charges yet. He's not out on bail. He's just out."

"So do you think he left? Or is he still in New York?"

"I don't know why he'd bother to shake the tail if he was going home."

"Exactly. And he also knows there's no way he's going to put together another weapons deal right now. It's too hot."

"Uh huh."

"So he's staying in New York. Why?"

"You know why," he said carefully as he got up from the bed. "We set him up and we killed five of his men."

"That's right. We did, you and me. And yet Logan's the one he threatened."

"When he made the threat, he probably still thought Logan _was_ Semere. He might not have considered the fact that we replaced the real one with a cop, and he had to know that Semere is the one who ratted him out."

"So he'd want to take him out because Semere may know more details about Hassan than just what he's shared with the feds. But the real Semere is in custody and Hassan would have no way of knowing who Logan is, even if he does know by now that he was a plant. He'd have no way to find him. What do you think? Could Hassan know about Logan?"

I knew that I was talking in circles, but I was just so damn mad...and Bobby knows me. He was able to keep up.

"I don't think so, but even if he does, he still can't get to him. Like you said, he wouldn't know his real identity. So he's going to take out his anger somewhere. Assaf was his loyal assistant for nearly a decade. He's going to want payback."

"On us. But even though he's seen us, he doesn't know who we really are either. The assumption would be that we're feds. Although I guess it depends on his resources as to whether or not he can track us through that venue. I mean, we _were_ feds."

"We need to know everything that was said when they interrogated him," Bobby stated.

And I knew what he was thinking.

Banta may have taunted him with the fact that we'd pulled the wool over his eyes.

To what lengths would Hassan go to try to find Logan?

Or maybe I was overreacting. Maybe he'd already cut his losses and was currently on a plane somewhere over the Atlantic.

It was the not knowing that was driving me crazy.

I blew out a frustrated breath and settled my gaze on Bobby. It was a relief that tonight he was the calm one, because I certainly wasn't.

"Alex," he said quietly. "We're not going to sit back and wait for him. If he's in New York, we'll find him. If he's not, we'll figure that out, too. Either way, we're going to pick him up and bring him to justice for what he's done. We almost had him this last time. We won't let him get away again."

I nodded thoughtfully, forcing away my anger so that I could think rationally.

"Okay. We need to call Logan and let him know what's going on. And Banta had damn well better be waiting for us at the federal building."

"He called in the team," he replied with a nod.

"The team," I scoffed. "You mean the ones who let him get away?"

"Yeah, well his lawyer's not stupid. There's a reason why they timed the release so that it would take place in the middle of the night. Hassan was being followed by a couple of rookies who drew the night shift. They were supposed to watch him until McHale and Lacey could get there, but it only took Hassan half an hour to give them the slip."

I strapped on my holster and then picked up my phone from the table and clipped it on my belt.

"Let's meet with the team, but then I want to go back to 1PP," I told him. "I'm close to something with those bank records."

He nodded his agreement and said, "You can get another look at them, and Logan and I will hit the streets, working on whatever leads the feds might have."

I followed Bobby out of the apartment and slammed the door closed behind us.

I couldn't help it. I was still furious.

I knew that I couldn't specifically blame Banta for this latest turn of events, but I could sure as hell blame him for the fact that we were in this mess to begin with.

* * *

**Logan POV**

Since Liz's place was so close to Pete's, we went there after leaving the bar.

Although, truth be told, I preferred going to her place anyway.

It was a lot nicer and more comfortable than mine, and there was something about seeing her in her element that really did something to me.

It gave me a feeling of domesticity that was appealing.

And she had a fireplace, which was a big plus considering it was January. It was my new favorite place to relax.

She had a thick rug in front of the hearth, so I liked to pull the footstool onto the rug and use it to lean against while I sat on the floor in front of the fire.

That was our current position. Me, sitting against the footstool with my feet stretched out in front of me, and Liz pulled against me, settled between my legs with her back against my chest. I had my arms around her waist and my cheek resting against the side of her head.

"Eames is really something, isn't she?" Liz mused. "Or Alex. I'll have to get used to that."

"She's smart," I said. "I think people forget that because she hangs around Goren."

"He is a commanding presence," she agreed. "I was surprised to see him so…I don't know…normal."

I chuckled at her and said, "You don't think he's normal?"

"I just mean that he's always so focused. It's always about solving a case, finding the evidence, catching the killer. And Alex. He's always been focused on her, too. But tonight he talked about other things."

"He's probably saying the same thing about you. He's only ever seen you in the morgue or at a crime scene. Tonight he saw you as who you are instead of what you do."

"That's true," she hummed. "Alex yelled at the chief. I don't think Danny ever did that. He was too worried about consequences."

"Maybe that's because the job was all he had. Eames has Goren. I think it changes perspective when your whole life doesn't hang in the balance."

She was quiet for a few minutes and I thought back over what I'd said.

"You know, I didn't mean to say that you weren't important to Ross. And he had his boys, too, so what the hell do I know?"

"No, you're right," she replied. "He loved his boys, but ever since his ex's boyfriend moved in with them, he gradually took over the role of father-figure and Danny let him do it. He didn't have anyone."

"I wasn't trying to lessen your importance to him."

This was an area we'd only touched on briefly.

I was curious about her relationship with him, but I was also reluctant to ask.

I wasn't sure I wanted to know if she'd been in love with him. Or if he'd sat here with her in front of the fire, like I was doing right now.

Some things were better left unknown.

"I was called to the scene when Danny was killed," she began quietly. "He'd been identified by the first cops to arrive, but the ME's office doesn't often get a name when we're called and that night wasn't any different. I got out there, and the cops were just standing around, so I asked what was going on. They told me that the victim was a police captain and that they'd gotten word to stand down. But you know me…I don't answer to the NYPD, or much of anyone for that matter, so I marched straight on over to the body. It just never occurred to me…I mean, I didn't think…anyway, it had barely registered that it was Danny when the FBI showed up and took over."

"So you saw him…like that."

"I approached him like I would any other victim," she answered. "And then I saw his face, and I just...froze. Because he wasn't a victim. He was a _person_. You know what I mean?"

"Yes, I do," I agreed. "It's always hard when it's someone we know. We get so used to creating some sense of detachment…"

"Exactly. That night, I was shoved aside and made to wait outside the tape. So I stood there, thinking about how his boys would never see him again and I came unglued. Goren and Eames showed up and bullied their way into the scene, but I didn't want to go any closer. I didn't want to look at him like that again."

"You'd already shifted from professional to personal. It's hard to go back."

"They did."

"They came in knowing what to expect. You were blindsided."

"True," she agreed.

She trailed her fingers along my forearm in a slow, soothing pattern. She fell silent, presumably lost in thought, and I found myself wanting to ask the question.

I had no doubt that she'd be honest. And it's not like I was jealous of a dead man, but for some reason, I just needed to know.

"Were you in love with him?" I asked at last.

"No," she answered, tilting her head back so that she could look me in the eye. "I liked him. We dated on and off for nearly a year."

"A year. That's a long time."

"Well, it was more off than on. He had a bit of a roving eye."

"Ross?" I asked in surprise.

"I think it was a mid-life thing. I don't know. And to his credit, he never denied it. He never indicated that he wanted an exclusive relationship with me. We just dated from time to time. And then came that horrible case with Goren's brother. That was the end for us."

"What happened? I mean, I know a little about it, but not the whole story."

"Well, you're not going to hear the whole story from me, either. Let's just say that Danny insisted I share privileged information with him. And he could be a real bully sometimes. I gave in and told him most of what he wanted to know, but then I hated myself for it and I hated him for asking me. That's when any chance of us moving forward with our relationship ended. After that, we were still cordial to each other, but it was never the same. It took me a long time to forgive him and I still haven't forgiven myself."

"Maybe you should."

"Maybe," she mused. "Why all of the questions about Danny?"

"I don't know. Curiosity I guess."

"You haven't asked me about anyone else."

"I just want to know where your head is. With this Hassan case…Ross' name keeps coming up and I never know whether to say it or not, or if it upsets you to talk about him or if you were trying to get back together with him when he was killed…I just want to know."

"I can understand that. It doesn't bother me to talk about him. It's almost been a year. As for this case, it upsets me thinking about the parallels between what you're doing and what he did, but that's all. You don't need to walk on eggshells around me. In fact, I'd really rather you didn't. I don't want to guess about what you're getting into, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed.

"You're not going to ask me if I slept with him?"

"I'm not going to open the gate of previous lover Q & A."

She laughed and turned on her side so that she could wrap her arms around me.

"Are you scared?"

"Of what you'll confess? No. I'm scared of what you'll say about me."

"You've never pretended to be a choir boy, Mike. I'm sure you've had your share. I mean, you didn't get so good by accident, did you? There was probably a lot of practice involved."

"Is that your nice way of calling me easy?" I joked.

"You are easy," she insisted with a grin. "You're easy to look at, you're easy to get along with, and you're easy to…to…care about."

I leaned down and kissed her lightly and then said, "Well, if that's the definition, then you're easy, too."

She let out a sigh and rested her head against my chest again. It was late, but neither of us made any move toward the bedroom. I was too comfortable to want to go anywhere.

"I didn't," she said after a few minutes.

"You didn't what?"

"Danny's not a previous lover. I never slept with him."

"You dated him for a year," I stated, surprised by her admission.

"On and off, remember? It seemed like every time we were on enough to get to that point, something happened to make us off again."

"Huh."

"You're not taking anyone's place," she said. "I've never jumped so quickly into anything and I've never had a man live here before. Not that you're actually living here, but…you know what I mean. You're here a lot."

"I like being here with you."

"Me, too."

I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth from the fire and her body heat, and the steady stroking of her fingers along my chest.

I was almost asleep when I heard my cell phone ringing.

"Where is it?" Liz asked me in a sleepy voice.

"I left it on the kitchen table," I told her. I eased out from underneath her and went into the kitchen.

Of course, I knew it was Goren before I even answered. No one else would be calling me at this time of night.

"What is it?" I answered.

"We're on our way to the federal building. Hassan's attorney managed to get him released and the feds lost track of him."

"You really know how to ruin a guy's night," I mumbled as I headed for the bedroom so that I could get dressed. "What are we thinking?"

"He'll want you, but he won't know how to get you. Alex and I might be next and not quite so hard to find, but honestly we're just not sure what he'll do. We need to retrace his steps. We're going to get the rundown from the team and then you and I can hit the streets while Alex goes back to 1PP to see if she can finish tracking him from the money angle. Are you at Rodgers' place?"

"Yeah. I can be at the federal building in forty-five minutes. Maybe less."

"Okay. Don't go home right now. First we need to find out what he knows."

"I hear you. You two be careful."

I hung up and turned around to find that Liz had come into the bedroom.

"It's Hassan," she stated.

"Yeah, he's out. It could be nothing."

"Or something."

"Right," I agreed. "There's only one way to find out."

"You said the federal building. You're meeting Goren and Eames there?"

"Yeah, they're already on their way. I could hear Eames cursing in the background. You just might get your wish."

"Which one is that?"

"If she gets her hands on Banta, he might end up on your table."

TBC...


	36. Chapter 36

**Bobby POV**

* * *

"This is it."

I'd just opened the door to the conference room at 1PP and once again found Alex on the floor.

She was sitting cross-legged in the middle of mounds of paperwork, much more than had been here the last time I'd stopped by.

She must have been burning up the internet and the printer in her effort to document Hassan's existence.

"This is it," she said again. "You can't hide from me, you arrogant little bastard."

"What'd you find?" I asked.

She looked up at me in surprise.

"When did you get here?"

"Just now," I said with a smirk. "I guess you weren't talking to me then."

"No," she said as she got to her feet. "But come look at this. Oh, where's Logan?"

"He's downstairs getting coffee."

It was Sunday afternoon and the three of us had been hard at it all day.

The team meeting at the federal building had mostly been a waste of time. There was a lot of finger pointing and name calling, but there wasn't a lot of evidence to go on.

We had the make and model of the car that Hassan had been riding in, along with the plate number and a vague description of the driver.

_"It _didn't_ take him long to replenish his entourage,"_ Alex had mumbled to me when we were given the sketch. _"And he's been in jail the whole time. He's got someone helping him from the outside."_

We had a list of eight known addresses that Hassan had used during previous trips to New York.

We had files on three known associates.

And we had flags on his bank accounts.

We'd issued a BOLO as well, but Casteel had warned us that we had to tread carefully with that.

_"He's been legally released. If a cop pulls him over in response to a BOLO, it can be seen as harassment."_

_"I'm willing to take that risk,"_ Alex told him.

_"You might be, but is the NYPD?"_

_"The alert can specify to follow as opposed to apprehend,"_ I reminded the SAC. _"It doesn't have to be harassment."_

"_I'm confused,"_ Logan spoke up. "_How is it that he managed to get released in the first place? We have witness statements attesting to the fact that he was attempting to purchase illegal weapons. Whether or not that would've been enough for a conviction, it's enough for an arrest. So why was he sitting around, uncharged?"_

_"We stalled the arrest while we were waiting for more evidence,"_ Banta fired back. _"Evidence which you three were going to provide."_

_"We wouldn't have needed to provide it if you knew how to do your job,"_ Alex said sharply.

_"You want to throw blame around, Eames? Well maybe if you and Goren had used a little more finesse when you confronted Stahl then she wouldn't have shot herself in the head! If she was still around, then she could've testified against Hassan and he would've been off the streets weeks ago!"_

_"Agent,"_ Casteel warned. _"You're out of line. We wouldn't have even known about Stahl if it weren't for these two. She made her choice, through no fault of theirs, so get over it. Right now we need to focus on getting a handle on Hassan."_

_"What does he know?"_ I asked. _"That might change where he decides to go."_

_"He knows we used a plant,"_ McHale said. _"But he doesn't know Logan's name."_

_"Okay, well that's something,"_ Alex said with some relief. _"What can you do about our records in the Bureau database?"_

_"You want me to have them expunged?"_ Casteel offered.

_"No, we want you to put a trace on them, on all of them. Everyone on the team, including the original team members. If the records are accessed, we can back track the hack," I said._

_"Done,"_ Casteel agreed.

_"Good,"_ Alex told him. _"I'm going back to 1PP to go through Stahl's belongings."_

_"We're going to check out all eight last knowns,"_ I supplied when she looked at me. _"And we'll track down the three known associates."_

_"Everyone report back here this evening,"_ Casteel directed. _"Six o'clock."_

It was currently four-thirty.

Logan and I had spent the day driving around the city, but every lead had proved worthless.

But now it seemed as though Alex had something.

"What is it?" I asked as I navigated my way through the mess on the floor.

"She had another identity."

"Stahl?" I asked in surprise.

"Uh huh. And I almost missed it."

"I _did_ miss it. So did everyone else."

"That's because she was smart. But not smart enough."

Alex walked me through the intricate structure of named accounts and numbered accounts, all of which were owned by Wendy Stahl.

Except for one.

It owned by Wendy Stall.

The social security number was one digit off.

And what's the significance of that, considering these bank statements were mixed in with the others and still held no suspicious activity?

Because then Alex ran the other social security number, the one in the name of Wendy Stall, and she found six more bank accounts.

Off-shore.

Their combined worth was just over five million dollars.

"And look where the wires were coming from," she said, pointing to the repeated electronic transfers made on a bi-weekly basis, beginning early January of last year.

The deposits originated from another numbered account, this one based in Macau.

"They're not exactly known for their crafty banking," I mused as I looked over the papers. "Can we pin it to Hassan?"

"I'm working on it."

"Because this isn't one of the accounts the feds had listed," I reminded her.

"Right, but we know they don't have everything, because the money in those three accounts was a pittance compared to what he owns."

"If you're right, then Stahl's been on his payroll since January. She had to know that Ross was going to end up dead, even when she first recruited him."

"She played up to his need to do something of value."

"She completely sold him out. I wonder who else she gave up."

"What do you mean?"

"Did she give him information on the whole team?" I posed. "I mean, how would she know that Ross would be the one who needed to be eliminated? If any of the others became suspicious of what was going on, then they would've been targets, too. We know how easily Beemer was taken out."

"So you think that Hassan has details on the others," she said with a nod. "Banta, Rivas, McHale…"

"It's possible."

"And you know what else," she added. "She was getting payments up until four weeks ago. He was still paying her for something, even after Ross. He didn't keep in constant contact because he sent one after she died, but only one. So they were touching base regularly."

Logan entered the conference room, managing three cups of coffee in his hands, and he had a brown paper bag between his teeth.

I moved to help him with his stash, taking the coffees from him so that he could open the bag.

"We worked through lunch, and I'm sure you did, too," he commented to Alex as he pulled out a foil-wrapped hot dog and handed it to her. "And since we're meeting the feds at six, I'm sure dinner's going to be a wash, too. So what've we got here besides a few dozen trees?"

"Alex found an account under another name," I told him, barely masking my pride.

"What? No way. You and I both looked through those accounts."

"Not closely enough, apparently," I said as Alex showed him the paper.

"One letter isn't all that noticeable when you're running on no sleep," she demurred.

"You mean like you are now?"

She shrugged and then went over to the laptop that was on the table.

"So what does this mean?" he asked her.

"Her fake accounts had regular deposits from a numbered account in Macau. I'm trying to find out the identification of the account holder. I'm not sure if I'll be able to do that, but at the very least, I can get information on the recent activity. We might be able to use that to track where he's staying because we know he's not going to use the accounts that the feds have on their radar."

"How in the hell are you going to get the bank to give you that?" he asked her. "I mean, they're not the Swiss, but surely they don't just cough up the name or any details on a numbered account."

"No, they don't," she agreed. "First you have to have proof of account ownership by providing them with correct information."

"Such as…"

"Such as the exact amount of the most recent transaction," she said as she typed on the computer. "That will usually do it, and right now, the last transaction is a deposit in the amount of twenty-five thousand, three hundred seventy-eight dollars and sixteen cents."

"Eames, you've lost me," Logan said. "If you can't gain access to the numbered account, then how do you know the amount?"

"Because I just did a reverse transfer from the fake Stahl account to the numbered account. When the Banco Comercial de Macau opens for business in half an hour, I'll give them a call."

She sat back in the chair and took a bite of the hot dog.

"I could kiss you right now," Logan told her.

"Hold off on that until we see if it works," she deflected.

"Um, yeah, you can hold off on that anyway," I said.

"Are you jealous, Goren?" he asked with a grin.

I couldn't blame him for teasing. The mood was suddenly lighter now that we had a possible lead. Up to this point, we felt like we'd been chasing our tails.

"Of you? I don't think so."

"Oh, come on. Captain Alonzo thought I was good enough."

"Yeah, and look what happened to her," I retorted. "She didn't exactly show good judgment."

"Be nice, Goren," Alex interjected. "It's not that Logan's not good enough."

"Thank you, Captain."

"It's just that he's not _you_," she finished, flashing me a smile. "And that's all the talking we're going to do about _that_ in this building."

"Yes, ma'am," Logan agreed quickly. "I can't wait to see Banta's face when we go back to the federal building armed with Hassan's hidden bank account and whatever information that gives us. If it's one that he's using, we'll be able to track his movements."

"That's right. They've been sitting on these boxes for six weeks. If they'd done a better job going through her things instead of just trying to bury it all, they might have found it by now."

We finished the hot dogs and the coffee and then Alex called the bank.

After providing them with the account number and the details about the most recent transaction, she started her ruse.

"I'm trying to balance the account and it's not coming out right, so I think I must have forgotten to write something down, or maybe my husband made a withdrawal and forgot to tell me. Can you give me the last few debits?"

I read over her shoulder as she wrote the information down.

_**January 16 - ATM $500.00**_

_**January 16 - WT $5,000.00**_

_**January 16 - WT $50,000.00**_

"Hassan's been busy," I commented quietly.

"I think there must be some mistake," Alex continued on the phone. "There should only be one wire transfer."

She listened for a moment and then quickly jotted down:

_**50K – account 6329914445, WF **_

_**5K – account 3746573241, BOA**_

"Okay, I'm sorry. You're right," Alex said. "And the ATM withdrawal. That was in Brooklyn, right?"

_**Chase, W. 96**__**th**__** and Broadway**_

"See, that's why I can't trust my husband to keep up with this account," Alex said on a laugh. "He didn't even mention that one. I guess the one in Brooklyn isn't showing up yet, but I think I'm straight now," she told her. "Thank you very much."

She hung up and set down her phone as she said, "And she instructed me, Mrs. Hassan, to have a lovely Monday."

"So he used an ATM in the Upper West Side?" Logan asked as he pulled out his phone. "I'll get us the security footage."

"The fifty grand is probably the lawyer. He worked all weekend to get Hassan out of federal jail. I'm sure that wasn't cheap," Alex commented.

"Uh huh," I agreed. "We'll confirm that first thing in the morning. And we can find out who was important enough to get five grand out of Hassan, too."

"Someone who's putting him up," Alex suggested.

"Or maybe the new body guard service. Those guys don't come cheap, especially since their predecessors ended up in the morgue."

"He's not going to get away this time," she said as she got up from the table. "Let me get this mess organized into something manageable and then we'll head over to the federal building."

"We need to make a stop first," Logan said when he hung up. "I've got a black and white headed to Chase to get the security tape. I told him we'd meet him at the 9-7."

Our exhaustion was forgotten as Logan and I helped Alex put all of the damning bank documents into one of the boxes and then we left 1PP.

I wasn't sure how much help the security footage would be except that hopefully it would give us visual confirmation that the account in question was Hassan's.

And depending on the angle of the camera and where the car was parked, it might show us how many others were with him at that point.

_And_ it would let us put a time stamp on exactly when he was in that area.

We picked up the tape without taking the time to look at it and made it to the federal building by six-fifteen.

The others were all in the same conference room where we'd met this morning.

Well, all except for Banta.

"Where is he?" Alex asked.

"I haven't heard from him," Lacey said. "We worked here until around two and then he said that he needed to go home."

"Home?" Logan questioned. "Why?"

"He said he hadn't showered since yesterday morning," McHale told us. "And he figured we'd be working all night. Our progress was stalled, and he was just hoping that you guys had found something so that we'd have fresh leads to work on."

"I'll call him," Rivas said. "I'm sure he's on the way."

I wasn't so sure.

I caught Alex's eye and I could tell that she was thinking the same thing.

If Stahl had shared information on the entire team, then Hassan would know where everyone lived.

And Banta…in his apartment with a great view of the river…

"Alex," I said quietly. "That ATM."

"I know," she said with a nod.

"What is it?" Logan asked us.

"It's near where Banta lives," I answered.

"He's not answering," Rivas announced as he hung up his phone. "We'll give him a few more minutes and then get started without him."

"We need to take a drive," Logan said.

"Uh huh."

"We're going to check on him," Alex announced to the others. "Call me if he shows up here."

"You think something's wrong?" Lacey asked, suddenly catching on to our concern.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But it's not like him to be late. And we have evidence that Hassan was in the vicinity of Banta's apartment."

"What kind of evidence?" Rivas asked.

"ATM security footage," Logan said, tossing the tape onto the table.

"We're monitoring his accounts. There's been no activity."

"Well, you missed one," Alex told them. "And he knows it. That's the one he's using."

"Why would he go after Banta?" McHale asked. "Hassan's a weapons dealer, not a killer."

"He's both," I corrected. "Just because he doesn't do it himself doesn't mean he's not a killer. Anyone standing between him and his business is a liability."

"But he should be thanking Banta," Lacey said. "I mean, we all know that if it weren't for him, Hassan would be in a world of shit right now."

"So maybe Banta's working with Hassan," Logan suggested. "Maybe he replaced Stahl on the payroll."

"No," Rivas insisted. "Banta's not dirty."

"Then why isn't he here?" I asked him.

"I don't know," he answered, picking up his phone again.

"He wouldn't just not show," I said.

"No," Lacey agreed. "You're right about that."

"You guys look over that tape and get the time stamp on when Hassan made the withdrawal," Alex instructed. "See what other evidence you can pull from it, too, and we'll go to Banta's place."

We left the conference room and went back to the car.

"I don't like this," Logan muttered as we headed back towards the Upper West Side. "I don't like this at all."

"We don't know that anything's wrong. It could be nothing," Alex reasoned.

But none of us believed that.

And none of us really believed that Banta was dirty.

If he was, then he would've shown up and continued to work the investigation, possibly trying to lead us down the wrong path.

So by the time we got to his building, we'd all pretty much made up our minds that Banta was in some serious trouble.

But we were still weren't prepared for what we found.

His apartment door was open and the place was in shambles.

In the kitchen, Banta was tied to a chair.

He'd been badly beaten. Tortured was probably a better word.

And he was most definitely dead.

TBC...


	37. Chapter 37

**Liz POV **

* * *

I didn't sleep much after Logan left to go to the federal building, but I did manage to doze off for a couple of hours.

When I got up, I spent some time cleaning and rearranging.

I made room for some of Logan's suits in my closet.

And I cleared out a drawer.

He wasn't officially living with me, but despite the lack of a label, he was here more than not. It was time for him to have a place to keep his clean socks and underwear, someplace other than a duffle bag.

After I got my house organized, I did some grocery shopping.

While at the market, several times I caught myself buying things that I knew Mike enjoyed and then I finally had to stop myself.

I was acting juvenile.

Next thing you know, I'd be drawing little hearts and filling them in with our initials.

I scoffed at myself and shook my head as I reached to put back the bag of potato chips.

And then I decided, so what?

I could buy whatever I wanted to buy.

I didn't answer to anyone.

So I went to the register to check out, and then I had the clerk add a carton of cigarettes, too. Buying them by the pack was getting expensive and it's not like we weren't going to use them.

We were _definitely_ using them.

In fact, it was getting to the point where the smell of smoke was like an aphrodisiac for me.

I went home and put the groceries away, and it still wasn't even noon. I'd gotten a text from Mike earlier, telling me that he'd probably be working until at least late evening, so I decided to go into the office for a little while. I had plenty to do there and for some reason, sitting home alone wasn't as enticing as it used to be.

The good thing about going to work was that the time went by quickly. There was no shortage of things to be done, so when my ringing phone broke my concentration, I was surprised to realize that it was almost seven o'clock.

"What's up?" I answered, having seen Mike's name on the display.

I was hoping that he'd say he was about done for the day, but he didn't.

"I need you," he told me. Normally, I might have made a joke in response to his declaration, but the tone of his voice clued me in on the gravity of the situation.

"What is it?"

"Agent Banta's dead. I need you to come take a look at him before the feds decide to pull jurisdiction."

"Officially or unofficially?"

"Captain Eames requests your presence," he stated. And then he added, "But hurry because as soon as the FBI gets wind of it, they'll want their guys on it. We need you to get everything you can from him before we lose it. Bring extra evidence bags."

"Give me the address. I'll be there as fast as I can."

* * *

**Bobby POV**

We decided to call Rodgers almost immediately.

We could hold off calling the team for a little while longer, but not much, and once we called them, I was pretty sure they'd insist on taking over the case.

Normally, I'd be okay with that, but not this time.

"Someone worked him over really good," Logan remarked as he took a closer look at the body.

"Hassan wanted information."

"So does the extensive beating mean that Banta gave it up? Or that he didn't?"

"It's hard to say."

"If Stahl gave Hassan information on the entire team, then what would he have needed from Banta?" Alex asked, calling out her question from the living room.

She was going through Banta's desk. It didn't require opening any drawers because everything was already spread out over top of the surface and on the floor.

"Me," Logan answered. "Let's face it. Hassan would already know about both of you, too. Stahl was on his payroll until the end. You guys had been working with her for nine months. Surely she gave him the heads-up about two new team members."

"And what?" Alex responded. "He's just hanging on to that information until he deems it useful?"

"Absolutely," I agreed. "Up until now, we haven't posed a viable threat. Stahl didn't know we were investigating him until the day she killed herself. She wouldn't have had the opportunity to let him know."

"This is an awfully big mess just to find out the name of one cop," Alex stated.

And she had a point with that.

"You think there's more to it," I said. "Like what?"

"I don't know."

"You think he's dirty?" Logan asked.

"I think…" she began and then she trailed off. I looked over at her and saw that she was reading through a stack of papers that she'd found on the floor.

"Look at this," Logan said to me, leaving Alex to her reading. I walked over to where he was bending down behind the chair, where Banta's hands were tied."All of his fingers are broken."

"Kind of awkward to break them while his hands are tied behind his back, don't you think?" I questioned. I squatted down next to him to get a better look. "They weren't stepped on. They were done one at a time."

"So he was untied, his fingers were broken, and then his hands were tied behind his back," Logan posed. "Why? I can't imagine he was much of a threat at that point."

"It had to be at least two men," I said. "In addition to Hassan. He doesn't get his hands dirty, so there would have to be one to hold Banta down while the other was working him over."

"I can't see any clear cause of death," Logan added as he checked his watch. "When are we calling this in?"

"As soon as Rodgers gets here. That'll give her a little time without it looking like we waited too long," Alex answered. She'd come into the kitchen, and she waved a handful of papers at us. "Banta knew about the numbered accounts."

"What?" I asked, getting to my feet. "The fake Stahl accounts?"

"He must have found them when he cleaned out her apartment."

"But the money was still there, wasn't it?"

"Uh huh," she agreed. "Maybe he just hadn't gotten the balls to steal it yet."

"This is unbelievable," I mumbled. "Stahl was taking payoffs from Hassan, and then Banta was going to steal it from Stahl."

"I guess he figured she wouldn't be needing it anymore."

A sound at the doorway caught my attention. It was Rodgers.

"I got here as fast as I could," she said breathlessly as she entered the apartment. "What have we got?"

"Agent Joey Banta," Logan said as he stepped out of the way. "We need a COD, a TOD, and if at all possible, a sequence of events. And no pressure or anything but we're going to have to call the feds now, so you'll probably have about thirty minutes."

* * *

**Alex POV**

Once Rodgers got to work on the body, I called Casteel.

He was appropriately dismayed by the news.

"I'll send the team over there right away. The NYPD is relieved of its duty."

"Upon their arrival," I clarified.

"Immediately," he insisted.

"So you want us to leave the scene? You want us to leave his body unattended?"

He sighed heavily and finally said, "Fine. Wait there. But Captain, this is no longer your case. My agents will investigate the murder of Agent Banta."

"There's no investigation to conduct. It's Hassan. We just have to find him."

"No, _we_ have to find him. Surely you have work to do at 1PP."

"They're closing ranks," I said to Bobby after I hung up with Casteel.

"We knew they would."

I nodded and led him into the living room.

"Did you notice the front door?" I asked him. "No sign of forced entry."

"Which means either he let them in because somehow they seemed non-threatening or they met up with him outside."

"Uh huh. Bobby, Banta was into something," I said quietly. "He's got the bank statements from all six of Stahl's hidden accounts. And the way he was worked over…"

"You think Hassan wanted something other than Logan's name."

"I think Banta blew that bust for a reason. He was going to offer his services to Hassan."

"So he was planning to steal the money from Stahl's accounts and then pick up with Hassan where she left off?"

"Maybe. Or maybe there's something more that we haven't figured out yet," I said thoughtfully. "I mean, think about it. We had just enough evidence to haul him in, but not really enough to hold him. Banta let Hassan think that his fate was in _his_ hands."

"So then why would Hassan kill him?"

"Maybe Banta pushed it too far. You know how cocky he was. A man like Hassan is used to subservience, not competition."

"So Hassan balked, and Banta threatened to bring the hammer down," Bobby concluded with a nod.

"And Hassan pretended to go along with it."

"Until he could get out of jail and then take matters into his own hands. He wanted Logan's name, and he wanted whatever information Banta was holding over his head."

"Right. Banta didn't come back here to take a shower. He came back here to meet Hassan. He was going to make a deal with the devil."

* * *

**Logan POV**

"Are you okay?" I asked Liz quietly as she knelt down next to the mangled body.

"You mean am I picturing this as you since you're next on his list?"

"Something like that."

"No," she said firmly. "Because I trust that you guys will catch him before he catches you."

"That's my girl," I said in a hushed voice. "Now tell me what you've got."

"The hands were bound perimortem. See how's there's only slight discoloration despite the tightness of the rope? The blood was only barely pumping by that point. And look here," she said, indicating the right shoulder. "It's dislocated. So is the right elbow."

"He was suspended by his arm?"

"You should check the fire escape. They might have dangled him over the edge while they questioned him."

"Okay, what else?"

"Time of death is about four o'clock. I can't say for sure without opening him up, but I'd guess that he was beaten for roughly an hour and then it took him another hour before he succumbed to his injuries."

"So the COD is internal bleeding?"

"See here?" she said, pulling the victim's mouth open so that I could look inside.

"Blood," I stated. "But they beat the crap out of him, so he should have blood, right?"

"Different shade and quality," she told me. "I'd say he has at least one broken rib which punctured his lung. Of course, there could be other internal damage as well that I can't visualize from an external exam."

"I'm not asking for perfection," I assured her. "We just need your best shot."

"Okay, well, help me get some blood and tissue samples. It's possible that whoever was beating him left a little something behind."

"Hey, Goren!" I called out as I held open a specimen bottle for Liz to collect what she needed. "Rodgers thinks he may have been hung out over the fire escape."

"I'm on it," he replied.

"Did you get pictures?" Liz asked me.

"Not yet."

"I'll do this. You'd better hurry. I think I hear sirens."

I pulled out my cell phone and snapped a couple dozen pictures. I could hear Eames doing the same thing in the living room and Goren was out on the fire escape. He came back in after a few minutes.

"The feds are here. They should be up any minute."

"What do you want me to say?" Liz asked as she tucked her half of the evidence bags into the pockets on her bulky windbreaker. "Why did you call me?"

"Habit," Eames said as she came into the kitchen. "We called in the murder and then we notified the FBI. Your office was dispatched. I mean, essentially that's what happened, right?"

"Exactly," Goren agreed.

"So now what?"

"Well, we can't go home," Eames said. "It's fair to say that we've all been compromised."

"Except for me," Liz said, turning to look at me with a wry grin. "I guess that's one good thing about a clandestine affair, right? No one would think to look for you at my place."

McHale and Lacey were the first two through the door and they were both visibly distraught.

"I can't believe this," McHale said as she moved slowly towards the body.

"Doctor, our ME is on his way. I appreciate your time, but we'll no longer be needing your services," Rivas said as he entered the apartment. "If you'd be so kind as to hand over any evidence you've collected."

"Of course," she replied, indicating the pile of bags on the table.

"Eames," Lacey said, shaking her head. "What's going on here?"

"I have some ideas, but we're no longer on this case."

Lacey walked us to the door as Rivas and McHale and a host of other agents took over processing the scene.

"We looked at the tape," Lacey said quietly. "Hassan himself withdrew the cash at two-thirty. Two men were visible in the car, in addition to Hassan. We were able to identify one as Gino Bisetti."

"Hassan's working with the Italians?" Goren asked. "Since when?"

"Bisetti is muscle for hire," she told us. "And he's not picky about who he works for as long as the money's right."

"You guys have been watching him?"

"He was on our radar for awhile. I put in a request to get the surveillance information from the agents who were assigned to him, but I haven't seen it yet. And it's nothing recent so I'm not sure how that will be helpful."

"We'll have to see it to know," Eames replied vaguely. "What about the other guy?"

"Unknown. African-American, thirty-something, no distinguishing marks. We're still looking."

"You know Casteel pulled the plug, right?"

"I know, but this makes three dead agents in six months. I want this guy and I need you guys to help me get him. I'll feed you what I can, if you're in."

That was one question to which I knew the answer.

We were always in.

TBC...


	38. Chapter 38

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Monday morning came about as fast as it usually does.

There's a reason why that particular day has a bad reputation, and just because it didn't necessarily indicate the start of the work week for us, that didn't make me like it any better.

Today was still going to be a challenge.

We'd left Banta's apartment yesterday evening and gone back to 1PP to gather the rest of the evidence from Stahl's house.

In light of the latest information, I didn't think that the Bureau suspected that they'd given us anything worthwhile, but I also didn't want to take a chance on them reclaiming the boxes.

Once we had those loaded in the SUV, we went to the morgue.

Rodgers was analyzing the specimens she'd recovered from Banta's body.

"Your agent friend identified one man as Gino Bisetti?" she questioned when we walked in.

"That's right."

"Well, she's not leading you astray. He left his DNA all over the victim. Skin cells, hair, blood…"

"Blood?" Alex asked.

"Uh huh. He might want to consider using a weapon to beat his victims rather than his bare hands. There was blood and tissue embedded in the wounds on Banta's face."

"Anyone else?" Logan asked.

"Yes, but he's not in the system. I have an unidentified male perpetrator."

"That would be the other guy on the tape," I concluded thoughtfully. "Okay, so what does that tell us? We already knew it was Hassan and his men."

"Well, I have one theory," Rodgers said. "If you're interested."

"I'm interested in everything you've got," Logan told her.

I know he didn't mean that suggestively, but now that I know they're sleeping together, I couldn't keep from barking out a laugh when she raised an eyebrow at his statement. And yeah, so my slip into the unprofessional probably had more to do with lack of sleep than anything else, but still…

"You know what I mean," he added. "Let's hear your theory."

"Well, the binding bothered me," she said. "Like you pointed out, why bother tying him up like that after the broken fingers, not to mention the dislocated elbow and shoulder. There's little chance that he was fighting back at that point."

"Okay," Alex said encouragingly. "So why tie him?"

"What if they didn't mean for him to die? It was a punctured lung. They might not have realized that. Maybe they tied him up because that's how they wanted you to find him."

"Alive," I stated. "For the purpose of what?"

"I don't know," she admitted with a shrug. "Maybe he gave them what they were after."

"After an hour? Statistically speaking, a person will either give up information in the first fifteen minutes or not for days," I told them. "And Banta seems to me like a first-fifteen kind of guy."

"So they got the information and then they punished him," Alex suggested. "They made him pay for putting Hassan in that situation to begin with.''

"We're missing something," Logan said. "He had Stahl's bank records, but he didn't touch the money. He let them into his apartment. He had a relationship with Hassan."

My brain was on overload as we all quietly pondered the possibilities.

"We need sleep," Alex said at last.

"Tomorrow will be another day in Major Case," Logan reminded her. "Goren and I have the Schuler case and you have…everything that you do."

"We'll work it out," she said. She looked at Logan and tipped her head towards Rodgers. "You're going to her place right?"

"Uh huh," he agreed. "What about you two?"

"We'll get a hotel," I said.

"That's silly. I've got room," Rodgers insisted. "You'll stay with us."

So that's what we did. It was nearly ten o'clock by the time we got there, but that still left us with the possibility of eight hours of sleep, so I was ecstatic.

Of course, the brain doesn't always comply just because it's time for rest. In fact, that's usually when it stages a revolt. As tired as we were when we arrived at Rodgers' place, within fifteen minutes, I was wide awake and so was everyone else.

So instead of going to bed, we convened in the living room.

"How would Hassan know to hire Italian muscle?" Alex pondered aloud.

"Criminals know criminals, right?" Rodgers replied.

"I guess," she agreed. "I just thought that Hassan was a necessity killer. I mean, he had his father killed so that he could take over. He had Ross killed because he was trying to undermine his plan to set up the private police force. Beemer, because he was investigating Stahl's involvement."

"So why Banta unless he posed a serious threat?" I finished. "And why would he be desperate enough to hire a professional? Surely he has devoted followers who would willingly take Assaf and Najjar's place."

"That's my point," Alex said. "Bringing in Gino just doesn't make sense."

"You think he's that five thousand dollar wire?" Logan questioned.

"That could be a down payment," I agreed. "But Alex is right. Those two should be running in completely different circles. What would make Hassan hire Gino in the first place?"

"I don't know, but there was something else in Stahl's apartment," Alex said. "If Banta stole the bank statements, then he could've just as easily stolen other things. And the bank statements were still there, in plain sight, at Banta's apartment. Hassan wasn't worried about them or he would've taken them."

"And if he saw them, it means he probably closed out that account you found," Logan remarked.

"Right. And he obviously has more, so closing one account isn't a big deal to him. No, it has to be something else."

"I've been thinking about that. Stahl collected more than five million from Hassan in less than a year."

"Five _million_?" Rodgers repeated. "She was doing more than giving him information."

"Like what?" Logan asked. "Like she was a kept woman?"

"I think she had dirt on him. They were holding each other by the short hairs," Alex said suddenly. "And whatever she had, Banta stole."

"But how are we ever going to find it? The FBI has taken over the crime scene," Rodgers said.

"I don't know," Logan said, getting up from the chair. "But right now, I've got to get some sleep."

He held out his hand to Rodgers, helping her up from the chair.

"Thanks for putting us up, Liz," Alex said. "We'll start fresh in the morning."

So that was what we did.

We got a good night's sleep and then we hit the ground running.

Only we ran into a snag before we could hit our stride.

Logan and I had only been at our desks for a few minutes when Chief Moran came through the squad room.

"Trouble at four o'clock," Logan muttered to me.

"Looks to me like it's trouble at seven forty-five," I replied wryly.

And maybe I'd been hanging out with Alex too much, I don't know, but I did manage to pull a chuckle out of Logan.

I watched carefully as Moran knocked on Alex's door and then went into her office.

"At least he knocked," I said. "If he was really mad, he would've walked right in."

* * *

**Alex POV**

The night at Rodgers' house had been restful.

There hadn't been too many nights in recent history where we'd been allowed to sleep for so many hours in a row, so when we climbed into bed, the knowledge that we had seven hours before the alarm was enough to block everything else out.

I didn't think about Hassan or Banta.

I didn't care about the size of the bed we were in or the fact that I had nothing clean to put on in the morning.

I didn't even ponder the unusual hum of the furnace or the steady creaking of the bed in the adjacent room.

Okay, I did comment on that, but only briefly.

"Should we time him?" I whispered to Bobby.

"No," he said as quiet laughter rolled through him. "But it does make me feel like the old married man, considering I don't have the energy to compete."

"I hope you don't mean that."

"Which part? The old or the married?"

"The idea that you need to compete. I'm fine with you feeling married."

"Yeah?" he asked, shifting me so that I was lying on top of him. I rested my cheek against his chest and closed my eyes.

"Definitely."

"So maybe we should leave New York," he said in a low, rumbling voice. His hand stroked idly over my hair as he continued the fantasy. "We could get married on a beach in Italy, maybe buy a villa in a seaside town."

"What would we do?" I murmured, enjoying the picture he was painting.

"I'll be a fisherman and you can work on your tan…"

"I'm unemployed?" I asked in feigned horror.

"Okay, maybe not," he said, chuckling again. "You can be the Vice Questore Aggiunto and I'll be one of your poliziotti."

"That almost sounds dirty," I teased.

"It pretty much means we'd be doing the same thing there that we're doing here," he admitted.

"Yeah, it's tough to even fantasize about anything else, isn't it? It's just what we do. Although I have to admit, I like that part about the Italian beach."

"I like the part about us being together as long as we both shall live."

"That part," I said as I reached up to kiss him. "Is not a fantasy."

"It's _my_ fantasy," he countered.

"It's a fact," I promised.

I kissed him again, and then settled against his chest and closed my eyes.

It felt like only a minute had passed when the alarm went off. I woke up in the exact same position as I'd been in when I fell asleep.

"You're going to have a permanent imprint of my face on your chest," I said apologetically as I got out of the bed.

"You don't hear me complaining, do you?"

We showered and then dressed in yesterday's clothes. Bobby had a clean suit in the locker room at work, and I had a fresh blouse, so at least that would be something.

We each downed two cups of coffee while standing in Rodgers' kitchen, and then we got ready to leave.

"I'll make another pass on the evidence," Rodgers told us as we all walked outside together. "I'll be in touch."

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in my office, trying to prioritize the growing mound of paperwork, when Moran knocked on my door.

"Please tell me what's going on with this federal disaster," he said when he entered my office.

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Agent Banta is dead?"

"Yes, sir. The feds have taken over jurisdiction."

"They're allowed to investigate one of their own," he said.

"Of course. But with Banta's murder, Casteel has decided to remove us from the case altogether."

"He requested the assistance of Major Case."

"Yes, sir, as it pertained to the apprehension of Khy Hassan."

"And has he been apprehended?"

"No, sir."

"Then it looks to me like NYPD still has jurisdiction. I don't want some hush-hush cover up going on when this case has our name on it, do I make myself clear?"

"Absolutely. I couldn't agree more."

"Don't worry about Casteel. I'll take care of him," he assured me.

"I appreciate that."

"What are Goren and Logan working on? Judge Schuler?"

"That's right. They have a possible lead on tracking down the…young lady…who was with the judge just prior to his death."

"Hand it off. I want those two going full bore on Hassan. Who's your next best?"

He caught me by surprise with his vehemence over the case, but I was glad to see it.

"That would be Wyatt and Yuille."

"Yuille? Are you sure?"

"He's sharp. He knows how to get the job done. He and Wyatt have made amends and they're working quite well together."

"Fine. The Schuler case is theirs. Call all four of them in here for a full briefing ASAP and then get back on that Hassan case."

"Yes, sir."

Moran turned and headed for the door, but then he paused and looked back at me.

"Was Banta killed as payback for the setup?"

"That's one theory, yes."

He nodded crisply, but then his expression softened and he asked, "You're not staying home alone, are you?"

"I'm not staying home at all," I promised.

"Good. Watch yourself, Captain."

TBC...


	39. Chapter 39

**Bobby POV**

* * *

For two days, we relentlessly worked the Hassan / Banta case.

Since we had Moran's go-ahead, and Maas had made a trip to steamroll Casteel, we were able to focus all of our time and energy on tracking Hassan.

And that was a good thing, because I don't know what Maas said to Casteel, but we found out that he pulled all of the agents from the investigation.

Technically, it was still a joint effort, but as far as ground work went, the case was entirely in the hands of the NYPD.

It made me wonder what Maas had on Casteel, what their history was, but for the time being, I had enough on my plate without pondering the backstory of the deputy chief.

On Monday morning, Alex gave Yuille and Wyatt the Schuler case.

"Don't screw it up," she'd concluded after we offered them a full briefing. "And no statements are made to the press without my approval."

"Of course," Wyatt agreed as he headed for the door. Yuille lingered behind, casting an uncertain glance towards me and Logan.

"I'll catch up," he told his partner. Then he turned to Alex and said, "I just wanted to thank you."

"For what?"

He looked at back at us again, but then he must have made up his mind that privacy wasn't necessary.

And it really wasn't because even if I hadn't heard the first-hand accounting from Alex, I certainly would've heard some of the gossip.

It was barely past eight on Monday morning and yet the word was already around the squad room that Alex had saved Yuille's job.

"I heard that you really went to bat for me. I just wanted to let you know that I won't let you down."

"I appreciate that."

"Well, and you know…the advice, too," he added quietly. "It helped. A lot. And…thank you."

"You're welcome."

Wyatt called out to Yuille from across the squad room, so he finally made his exit. I closed the door after he left, and Logan let out a whistle.

"Somebody's got a crush."

"Please," she said dismissively. "He was just in a deep hole and I threw him a rope. That's it."

"That better be it or he's going to be in a six-foot deep hole," I added. Logan laughed but Alex just bit back a smile and shook her head at me.

"Can we get serious here? We've got a lot to do."

So we buckled down and retraced every step. The original Hassan investigation, our subsequent mole search, and the latest weapons deal set-up.

For the most part, the three of us worked together. Alex took random so-called breaks so that she could stay up to speed on what her other detectives were doing, but she never stayed away for long.

By Tuesday evening, we were no closer to finding Hassan or the reason for Banta's murder.

We'd spent Monday night at Rodgers' place, too, and it looked like we'd be there tonight as well.

There was no ripple of Hassan on our radar.

As expected, he'd closed out the account that Alex had located and no additional activity had occurred after the ATM withdrawal on Sunday.

We did manage to successfully track the five thousand dollar transfer.

It wasn't made to Gino.

It was made to Banta.

We also tracked the fifty thousand dollar transfer.

It wasn't to Hassan's attorney. It was to Gino.

"Why would Hassan have paid Banta five grand?" Rodgers posed.

We were back at Pete's, having dinner and rehashing the case.

"A sign of good faith," Alex suggested. "The transaction occurred at one fifty-five. Banta left the federal building at two. Maybe he was waiting for confirmation of the receipt of the money before he went home to meet with Hassan."

"That makes sense," I agreed.

"And it was worth it to Hassan to blow five large in order to gain entry into Banta's apartment," Logan added.

"Uh huh," Alex said. "But why the fifty grand to Gino? I'm telling you, the Italian connection is something. We've been back over virtually everything and can't find any prior association with the mob until now."

"And Gino's big time. He doesn't work for just anybody," I said. "So why would he take a gig as a henchman for an African sheik?"

"Well, the fifty grand probably has something to do with it," Rodgers commented.

"You think it's as simple as money? Gino's been a pretty consistent force with the Toscano family. He's a trusted made man. I don't get the switch."

"Maybe they had a falling out," Logan said.

"Gino and the Toscanos?"

"I don't know. I'm just thinking out loud."

"I don't think so. Gino's last arrest was in December and it didn't stick because the complaining witness mysteriously disappeared," Alex supplied. "So someone was still helping Gino at that time because he was in jail."

"I wonder how old man Toscano likes his boy working for Hassan," I said thoughtfully.

"We need to find the connection," Alex said insistently. "There are a hundred jacked up hit men in this city. We need to find out why Hassan picked Gino."

"Let's go to Banta's apartment," Logan suggested.

"When? Tonight?"

"Yeah. I mean, we're officially on this case and he's a victim. We have every right to search the place."

"You think there's anything left there that the feds didn't find?"

"I think if they'd found what we're looking for, Hassan would be caught. It's still there."

We hadn't been there since Sunday evening but maybe Logan was right. A more thorough search with the specific intent of looking for a mob connection might be in order.

So we finished dinner and then went straight to Banta's apartment where we spent the next several hours searching in every nook and cranny.

Oddly enough, the feds had cleaned up, putting everything back in its place.

There was still blood stained on the kitchen tile, but other than that, no one would ever know that a crime had been committed here.

Well, the blood and the crime scene seal that we'd sliced through on our way in.

"Do we really think we're going to find something that neither the feds nor the criminals were able to locate?" Logan asked as he backed his way out of a large closet.

"It was your idea," I reminded him.

"Yeah, well when did you start listening to me?" he joked.

"Hey, Bobby, look at this," Alex called to me.

She was in Banta's bedroom in front of the bookshelves. There were dozens of books lined up in front of her, and I couldn't imagine that either search party had overlooked them.

But she was holding one in her hand and she had a smile on her face.

"What is it?" I asked her. She held up the book and showed me that the cover could be pulled away from the binding.

Tucked inside was a newspaper article.

"It's about a murder," she said as she glanced over it.

"Whose?"

"Bruto Toscano," she said.

"Bruto," I said with a nod. "I remember him. He's one of the sons."

"Uh huh. I remember him, too. When he was killed, it was the first time old man Toscano ever willingly set foot in a police station. He wanted to personally compensate the detective who could catch the killer."

"He was overwhelmed with grief," I added. "But the killer was never caught."

"What does that have to do with this?" she posed as she continued to scan the article. "Bobby…Bruto's body was found at the shipyard."

The shipyard was in the same vicinity as the warehouse where the weapons deal had been scheduled to go down.

I stepped closer to her and read the article over her shoulder.

It outlined how the infamous mobster's son had been brutally murdered at the age of twenty-four.

"Look," I said. "It says that at the time of the murder, Bruto was under investigation on RICO charges."

"Which means the feds were probably watching him."

"When was this? '07? '08?"

"There's no date on here, but that sounds about right. You know, we've been looking through Stahl's personal belongings, but maybe we need to look through her old case files."

"You think Hassan is the one who killed Bruto."

"You don't? Why else would Banta have this article? And it was so well hidden…it was important for a reason. I think maybe he thought it was his ticket to safety."

"Well, it wasn't."

She replaced the book on the shelf, but kept the article and then we went into the other room to tell Logan and Rodgers about what we'd found.

"Then why would Hassan hire Gino?" Logan asked after we'd finished explaining our theory. "Hassan doesn't want to mess with Toscano. As powerful as Hassan is, Toscano would still bury him."

"I'm wondering if it's a keep your friends close and your enemies closer type of thing."

"He hired Gino so that he could get information?"

"Let's say that I'm right," Alex reasoned. "That would mean that Stahl found evidence about Bruto's murder, probably while working on the RICO surveillance team. She agreed to keep it a secret in exchange for cash. When she died, Banta discovered this information. Maybe he didn't do anything with it right away. Maybe he had a little bit of a conscience, so he sat on it."

"The arrest of Semere brought everything to the forefront and forced Banta to make up his mind," I said, picking up her thread. "He'd probably been staring at those bank statements of Stahl's, thinking about that five million dollars, and so he decided to take a run at Hassan himself. He botched the sting, dangled the extortion in front of Hassan, offering to make the current charges go away if he could take up where Stahl left off."

"So Hassan agrees and gets out of jail," she concluded. "He finds Gino, maybe offers to hire him as a way to feel out whether or not Banta double-crossed him. Gino's agreeable, so Hassan knows his secret is still safe. He pays Banta the five grand as a down payment, then he goes to his apartment supposedly to finish making the deal, only instead he lets Gino try to beat information out of him."

"And Gino thinks that he's just trying to get a name. He assumes Hassan is only interested in revenge against us," Logan said. "So Hassan searches the place for the blackmail material while Gino tortures Banta."

"It's good, except…what if Banta had spouted off what he knew?" I questioned. "Wouldn't that be awfully risky?"

"Maybe that's where goon number two comes into play," Alex suggested. "Protection from the protection."

"I've got a better question," Rodgers spoke up. We all looked to her and she shrugged self-consciously. "I mean, since I'm working this with you…"

"Go ahead," I encouraged.

"Okay, if this happened three or four years ago, then why was Stahl only on the payroll since last January? Wouldn't she have approached him sooner?"

"Maybe," Alex agreed thoughtfully.

"And," Logan added. "If Stahl was using her information to blackmail Hassan, then why did she also give up Ross? And the rest of the team for that matter. If he was paying her to keep her mouth shut, then why did she also give him classified information?"

"Another good point," I said. "It's something to look into. We need to pull Stahl's case files and we need to double check the dates on when Hassan was in the country over the past five years."

"Casteel's not going to want to hand over the files," Logan pointed out.

"I'll call Maas," Alex said. "He handled Casteel just fine yesterday, and he seemed to have a good time doing it."

We spent another hour at Banta's place, making sure that we didn't miss anything else, and then we left and headed for Rodgers' house.

Alex drove, and she took a route that took us twice as long, but we wanted to be sure that no one was following us.

"You think he'd be staking out Banta's apartment?" Rodgers asked.

"It's what I'd do," I told her.

"Yes, but you're smart," she replied with a tired smile. It was nearly ten o'clock and it had been another long day.

"So is he. He hasn't stayed out of jail this long because of luck," Alex pointed out.

"I don't see any sign of a tail," Logan stated as Alex made yet another turn. She finally traveled the last few miles to Rodgers' home and found a parking space around the block.

"I'm going to call Maas now," Alex said as we walked down the sidewalk. "If he gets on it tonight, maybe we can have what we need first thing in the morning."

"Good idea," I agreed. She pulled out her phone, but before she dialed, my phone started ringing. She waited while I got it out of my pocket and checked the display.

"It's Maas," I said in confusion. "Why would he be calling me?"

Alex was usually his point of contact, especially now that we were back at 1PP.

"Goren," I answered quickly.

"Detective Goren, I'm afraid I have some bad news."

"What is it?"

"One of your neighbors called 9-1-1 to report a break-in in progress."

"My neighbor? Across the hall?"

"Yes, but it wasn't his apartment being broken into. It was yours."

"Mine," I repeated numbly.

"I'm standing in it now," he said.

"You're in…my apartment."

"Relax, Detective. I'm here investigating a break-in," he said pointedly. "The beat cop called the chief, since it involved an NYPD detective, and the chief called me. I'm handling it myself since it's obviously related to the joint FBI-NYPD investigation into Khy Hassan."

"Um…thank you. We're…I'm…_we're_ on our way."

"What was that about?" Alex asked me when I hung up the phone. Logan and Rodgers had stopped a few feet ahead of us and were watching me, too.

"Hassan broke into our apartment," I said. "My neighbor called it in."

"He's getting desperate to find out where you are," Rodgers said.

"And in the process, I'm going to get fired," I pointed out.

"You said Maas is there?" Alex asked quietly.

"Yeah. He said that he was handling it."

"Which means he's _handling_ it," she repeated. "When else would a deputy chief handle a burglary investigation? Breathe, Bobby."

"Okay," I said, forcing myself to regroup. "Okay, you're right. He's there because he knows and he's protecting us."

"Right."

"And the important question is, did we leave anything there that would give Hassan a clue as to where we're staying? Or that we're cops now instead of feds?"

"Everything personal is on our laptop," Alex said.

And we had that with us. After a year of living under a microscope as undercovers both _for_ the FBI and _in_ the FBI, we'd completely changed how we handled personal information.

Now we were very, very careful.

"You're right. We're clean," I agreed, taking one more deep breath. I'd nearly come unglued at the prospect of being busted, but as usual Alex managed to bring me back around. "Okay, let's go."

TBC...


	40. Chapter 40

**Alex POV**

* * *

After the call from Maas, we retraced our steps and headed back to the car.

Halfway there, Rodgers stopped us.

"Wait a minute. You said he's smart, right?"

"Hassan? Definitely," I agreed.

"What if he's there? What if the break-in was designed to bring you back home so that then he could follow you to wherever you go?"

"That's pretty elaborate, even for him," Logan said.

"No, she might be right," Bobby stated. "We considered that he might watch Banta's place, but he didn't. And if Stahl shared the information on the team, then he'd have my address."

"And he wouldn't know to look for us at 1PP because he thinks we're feds," I added. "So if he's been staking out the apartment and the federal building, then he was probably getting frustrated."

"Meaning he might do something desperate," Bobby finished as he glanced at me worriedly.

"I'll call Maas and let him know we're not coming. We're better off staying here."

I pulled out my phone and made the call.

"Captain, it's Eames. We have reason to suspect that Hassan might be watching the building. I think it would be better if we didn't come."

"You think he's here?" he questioned in surprise.

"Honestly?" I asked in frustration. "I don't know what he's doing. But if he's still in the city, and if he's looking for us, then that would be my guess. We think Stahl provided him with information on the entire team, which very well may have included us."

"That would explain the lack of mess," he mumbled.

"Sir?"

"There's very little mess in the apartment. In fact, I don't know what it looked like before, but other than the jimmied lock on the front door, I'm not sure the break-in would've been obvious. But the burglar was loud enough to alert the neighbor."

"So he wanted the neighbor to call it in," I replied.

"Uh huh," he agreed. "Good thinking. I'll see if I can slip out the back and get a visual on the cars in the vicinity."

"Okay, let me know. Oh, and I was going to call you tonight anyway. We need to gain access to Stahl's case files. Everything she worked on over the past five years."

"What do you expect to find?"

"We're not sure, but it looks like this deal with Hassan was a lot more intricate than simply payment for information."

"She had a prior relationship with him?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "But we found information at Banta's apartment that leads us to believe that maybe Stahl was blackmailing Hassan, and that Banta was going to try to take it over."

Maas let out a heavy sigh, and despite our conversation, I couldn't help but wonder what he was seeing as he wandered around our apartment.

We hadn't been there since the wee hours of Sunday morning when Bobby and I had gotten the call from Banta.

We'd made love on the couch that night, finishing up not long before the call had come in.

And it's not like I thought Maas would be walking around with Luminol and a black light, but still…would he be able to tell?

_Focus, Alex_.

If we went with the assumption that he knew about the relationship, then surely he knew we were having sex. So even if he did see evidence of our carnal activities, it certainly wouldn't come as any big shock.

Not only that, but as far as Maas knew, that apartment was just Bobby's. Incriminating evidence of a sex life wouldn't necessarily mean a sex life _with me_.

So if he _didn't_ know, then he _still_ wouldn't know.

And exactly what kind of evidence did I think he was going to find?

I shook my head, now completely annoyed with myself.

As if the man didn't have anything better to do than ponder the nature of our relationship.

"I'm going to seal the door, just so we can keep track of entry," he told me. "And then I'm going to check the area for any sign of Hassan. And then I'll go talk to Casteel."

"Thank you. I really appreciate your help. With everything."

I hung up with Maas and then the four of us once again made the walk to Rodgers' home.

"You're going to need hazardous duty pay," I commented once we were inside. "Three nights in a row, putting up with the three of us…"

"Well, I've been putting up with this one anyway," she replied with a smile, nudging Logan with her shoulder as the two of them headed for the kitchen.

"You'd miss me if I went home," he responded in a teasing voice. I caught Bobby's eye and we silently agreed to stay in the living room as opposed to following them into the kitchen.

It was more because I wanted Bobby alone for a minute than the thought that Logan and Rodgers wanted privacy.

He must have been able to sense my need because he sat down on the arm of the couch so that we would be eye level. He held out his hand to me and I moved to stand between his legs.

"You were really worried," I said quietly.

"About Maas looking through our apartment? You weren't?"

"Maybe. But more for privacy reasons than because I was worried about him finding out about us."

He looked down at our joined hands, fidgeting slightly as he played with my fingers.

"It's very possible that he knows," I continued. "He's a smart man. He'd barely known us for a week before he was spouting off about my strong, personal feelings for you."

"I know," he conceded. "But him knowing in his mind versus having hard facts in front of him are two very different things."

"I thought we decided that we didn't care," I said carefully. "Are you having second thoughts about it being worth the risk?"

"No," he answered quickly. He let go of my hand and instead placed his palm against my cheek. "No doubts whatsoever. You know that. I love you, Alex."

"I know. And you love your job," I reminded him. I ignored the tightness in my chest that came from what I was about to say. But I loved him too much not to say it. "If you think that we should back off, maybe let some time pass or be involved with other people so that all suspicion is erased…"

"Is that what you want?" he asked softly.

He held my gaze with his usual intensity.

I couldn't look away if I wanted to.

But I didn't want to.

I could stare at him for the rest of my life.

"No," I assured him.

"I don't either," he promised, his thumb slowly moving back and forth along my cheek.

Then he stood up, and as much as I liked it when we were eye to eye, I liked it this way even better.

I liked the way he towered over me.

I liked the way that he encroached upon my personal space with proprietary interest.

"I panicked," he admitted as he put his other hand on my waist, pulling my hips against his. "I don't like the idea of anyone getting a look into our personal lives. And I don't want to leave Major Case. We just got started again and it's been going so well and the idea that something unexpected like a break-in might ruin it…well, it was upsetting. But make no mistake. There's no choice to be made, Alex. I'll sell hot dogs on the street before I'll ever give you up."

"Hot dogs, huh?" I asked with a grin.

"Fake Rolexes…bootleg DVD's…"

I started to laugh, but then he gripped me tighter and leaned down, kissing me in such a way that had me instantly aroused.

It was almost desperate, as though just the thought of us not being together was too much for him to bear.

Although I could understand that.

It had nearly broken my heart to say the words, and yet I'd felt like I had to give him that option.

We'd discussed this type of thing in the past, but tonight was real.

Like he said, it was Maas potentially looking at facts as opposed to harboring a theory.

But I didn't want to think about Maas any more right now. Or Moran. Or work in general.

I couldn't think about anything but the feel of Bobby's lips against mine.

Honestly, I forgot where we were until I heard Logan clear his throat. And it still took me another several seconds before I even considered pulling away.

"What?" I asked Logan without tearing my gaze away from Bobby. He was still staring at me, too, and I knew the look.

It was the one that caused my insides to somersault.

"Don't mind me," Logan answered as he moved through the room. "Liz asked me to light a fire."

I dropped my eyes and let out a sigh.

"I thought maybe you guys would want to sit up and wait to hear back from Maas," he added.

He had a point.

I was curious to find out what Maas would find when he searched the area surrounding our apartment.

And I wanted to hear about his chat with Casteel.

"Anyone need a drink?" Rodgers asked from the doorway.

So thirty minutes after arriving, we were all settled in the living room in front of a roaring fire, sipping bourbon.

"Do you really think you might get fired?" Rodgers asked after we'd been sitting in silence for several minutes.

It was strange to think that four days ago, she had no idea that Bobby and I were a couple and yet now we had no problem sitting close together on the sofa.

He had his arm around my shoulders and I had one hand resting on his thigh.

"No," Bobby admitted, pulling me even closer to him. "Transferred, maybe, but not fired. And I don't even think they'll do that."

"Technically, they could insist on a transfer," I clarified. "But we think that maybe Maas has been on to us for several months now. I think if they truly had a problem with it, we wouldn't have been welcomed back into the same department. That would've been the perfect time for him to say something and suggest that one of us went to work somewhere else."

"I don't get why it's such a big deal," she replied casually. "You're both consenting adults."

"What about you?" Bobby asked. "Why the big secret?"

I watched as Logan and Rodgers looked at each other, as though neither was exactly sure of the answer.

"I don't know," Logan admitted. "I don't think either of us expected for it to go anywhere. And there's enough gossip floating around the department without us adding fuel to the fire."

"That's true," I said, shaking my head. "I'm honestly surprised that there's not anything being circulated about me and Bobby, especially now that it's common knowledge that we worked undercover together."

"That's because they're talking about me and you, remember?" Logan said with a grin. "I suppose we should thank Alonzo for that."

"I don't know why it is that when the boss is a woman, everyone wants to know who she's sleeping with, but when the boss is a man, it's not really an issue."

"Unless he's sleeping with the secretary," Rodgers said wryly. "Then it's big news."

"It's a double standard," Bobby agreed.

"Exactly," Rodgers said. "And if an older man is with a younger woman then he's a stud, but if an older woman hooks up with a younger man, then she's a cougar."

"That makes me a stud, honey," Bobby said to me with a grin.

I barked out a laugh, bringing my feet up onto to the sofa so that I was leaning more heavily against him.

"And me a cougar," Rodgers added.

"Not hardly," Logan corrected. "There's only three months between us."

"It's about perception. You look younger."

"You're too critical of yourself," he chastised lightly. He pulled her closer to him and kissed the side of her head.

"I'm just honest," she countered, although she had a smile on her face.

And then for some reason, despite the fact that I was completely relaxed, I once again thought about the case.

About the article, and Bruto Toscano.

"Hey, Rodgers," I said suddenly. "What are the odds that your office did the autopsy on Bruto?"

"Um…I'm not sure. I don't remember him, and I would think that a name like that would stick out in my mind, but I don't know. I can check."

"What are you thinking?" Bobby asked me.

"I don't know. But I'd like to see his autopsy report."

"I can get you that whether it was in our office or not," she told me. "First thing tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Look it over for us, if you will. See if anything jumps out at you. An unusual weapon or a distinguishing wound pattern. Something like that."

"Because how would Stahl know for sure that Hassan was behind it when the investigating officers couldn't figure it out," Bobby said matter-of-factly.

"You're reading my mind again," I told him with a smile.

"Yes, I am," he said pointedly.

His gaze once again set my insides on fire and I decided that it was time for bed. Maas might not even call tonight, if he couldn't catch up with Casteel, so maybe it wasn't the best idea to sit around waiting for him.

I got up from the couch and held out my hand to Bobby, pulling him up with me.

"We're going to call it a night," I said.

"Up at seven?" Logan asked.

"Uh huh. And then we'll go to the federal building and see how many skeletons we can uncover."

TBC...


	41. Chapter 41

**Logan POV**

* * *

Wednesday was an enlightening day, both personally and professionally.

First off, I've never been with anyone quite like Liz. She's so supportive and yet undemanding.

Considering that I've dated a handful of women with whom I also had a working relationship, I would've thought understanding and compassion would've been a given.

Especially with a fellow cop.

Or a police psychologist.

Or an ADA.

But it wasn't.

And maybe the difference was just the emotion involved, I don't know. I don't think anyone from my previous relationships cared for me the way that Liz does.

That's actually kind of sad since Liz has never said that she loves me, and some of those previous women did.

But actions speak louder than words.

Liz was interested in hearing what I had to say about the case, and then she was equally interested in helping me get my mind _off_ the case.

She was pretty good at it, too. Taking my mind off of things. She has great hands and she's very tactile. Maybe it's a doctor thing, I don't know, but I like it.

Over the past couple of days, her job had taken a back seat to what was going on in my life, but she was okay with that.

"I know that you respect what I do," she said confidently when I brought it up. It was six-thirty in the morning. We'd gotten up a little early so that we could take our time showering together before getting ready for the day. "I don't need to hear it on a daily basis."

"Besides," she continued as she picked up the soap. "It'll come around. At some point, I'll get stuck working a seventy-two hour shift and then I'll be begging you for a foot rub."

"You don't ever need to beg me," I told her. "I'll give you anything you want."

"Mike," she said on a self-conscious laugh. "Let's not get carried away."

"You think I won't?" I asked, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her to me, letting the water from the shower pound onto my back.

Eames was going to be ticked when we used up all of the hot water, but she'd get over it.

"I think that you shouldn't make promises you can't keep," she said.

Her tone was playful even though her words weren't. I can't explain why I suddenly felt the urge to say something binding, but I did.

I mean, we'd been moving towards this moment for a little more than two weeks now. Granted, that wasn't very long by most people's standards, but this was different.

I kept my eyes on her, even as she had trouble maintaining contact. I realized that in the past week, I'd gone from only worrying that I'd hurt her to also worrying that I'd get hurt.

I'd given her that kind of power over me. I'd left myself vulnerable.

I'd progressed from _let's see where it goes_ and moved onto something else.

"That's not my style, sweetheart," I replied evenly. "You know me better than that. I don't make empty promises."

"What are you saying?" she asked, finally bringing her eyes to mine. I watched her intently for a moment, cataloging her features even as I was flooded with a sense of anxiety.

"I'm saying that I…"

And then I stopped.

Because what had happened the last time I uttered these words?

I'd been left so fast that my head was spinning for weeks afterwards.

_But Liz wasn't Carolyn_, I reminded myself. And Liz wasn't likely to run while I had her pinned against the tile wall in the shower.

But still...the bottom line was that I was scared.

Scared of rejection…of unreturned sentiment…of changing the status quo.

Because I _really_ liked the way things were going right now.

So why did I feel the need to push it?

I covered up my internal argument by kissing her. I didn't want her to see the doubt or hesitation in my eyes because it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with me.

_Let it go_, I told myself. _What's the big rush?_

The rush was that I _felt_ it.

And with Liz, I'd learned that there was no need to hide my feelings, ever.

I pulled back from her and studied her face again.

Would I ever be able to look at her in the dim light of the morgue and not see her like _this_?

The way the droplets of water clung to her eyelashes, making her already lovely blue-green eyes even more stunning…

"Mike?" she questioned.

"I think maybe I'm falling in love with you."

"You…you what?" she asked, genuinely shocked by my admission.

Her surprise caused me to panic.

Was she honestly _not_ expecting me to say something similar at some point?

Unless it was only me who'd been moving towards this moment…but no, she'd said last week that she was going in this direction.

And things had only gotten better since then.

"I know," I said, gathering my self-confidence. "It's probably not the smoothest way you've heard the words, but…I wanted you to know where my head is. Where my heart is. I'm getting there, Liz. In a hurry."

She stared at me a moment longer as she processed my statement and then finally she smiled.

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head as she wrapped her arms around me. "You just caught me by surprise. I thought your head would be on Hassan this morning."

"Normally it would be," I admitted. "See, that's the thing. I can't stop thinking about you, even when my mind is supposed to be somewhere else."

Our conversation was cut short when the water unexpectedly ran completely cold.

We quickly got out of the shower and as she was bent over drying off, she glanced up at me with a wry grin and said, "You think. Maybe…"

I loved that she could tease about the moment rather than over-analyzing it to death.

"What can I say? I'm a process," I replied.

"Uh huh," she agreed.

She stood up and wrapped the towel around her. It was still a few minutes before seven, so we figured it would be safe for us to slip back into the bedroom to get dressed.

I knotted my towel at my waist and then reached for the door knob, but she stopped me with a hand on my back.

I turned around and found her watching me carefully.

"I think maybe, too."

That had been this morning.

See? Personally illuminating.

Even though we hadn't made the statements unequivocally, we'd still made them.

And so far, this was the healthiest relationship I'd ever had. There were no head games or manipulative undertones. Just honesty and deep affection.

By the time dinner came around, the day was enlightening professionally as well.

"It was because of a woman?" Liz asked in surprise.

We were back in Pete's, mostly because it was convenient and it felt safe. She and I were on one side of the table, sitting across from Goren and Eames.

It was nearly eight o'clock and we were all starving because lunch had never happened, for us or for Liz. She'd been swamped today, too, and as soon as I saw her face only moments ago, I made up my mind that tonight she was getting that foot rub.

"Men do strange things for the love of a woman," Goren said as he waved at the waitress. She finally made her way to our table and we placed our drink order before picking up the conversation again.

"Jill Peak," Eames stated. "Apparently, Stahl recognized her face and so then she went back through old records to find out why."

"Jill was engaged to Bruto. She was in surveillance footage that the FBI had obtained during the RICO investigation into Bruto," I explained. "There's record of Hassan coming to New York in April of 2008, two months before Bruto was murdered, and we were able to track the spending of both Jill and Hassan. Their paths crossed in a nightclub in SoHo in early May of that year."

"But didn't Hassan kill her?"

"His sister killed her," Goren corrected. "She didn't think Jill was the right image for the people of their country."

"And of course, no one's heard from Khadra lately," Eames said. "It's very possible that Hassan killed her as payback for murdering the love of his life."

"Okay, so Jill and Bruto were an item. Then Jill met Hassan and fell in love. Why couldn't she just break up with Bruto? Why did Hassan have to kill him?"

"According to the notes we found in files that were hidden and encrypted on Stahl's computer, surveillance photos of Jill in the week prior to Bruto's death showed that she was recently beaten."

"So she tried to end the relationship with Bruto and he beat her up?"

"That's our guess. After that happened, Hassan killed him."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but Hassan is responsible for quite a few deaths. Why is this one such a big deal?"

"We think it's the only one he committed himself," Eames said. "Not only that, but if Toscano finds out, Hassan's as good as dead. Or at the very least, he won't be able to come back to New York."

"And he's building an empire," Goren added. "He's the up and coming force in northern Africa, and as far as he's concerned, that's only the beginning. Getting into a feud with Toscano would risk everything for him."

"Did Stahl have any proof?"

"We think so. Did you bring the autopsy photos?"

Liz reached into her briefcase and pulled out a file.

"I read through the file. Nothing much jumped out at me. Bruto Toscano was beaten with what appears to be a piece of rebar. It wasn't a quick death. The examining coroner stated that it probably took him a couple of hours to bleed out."

"Crime of passion," I said. "That makes sense."

Liz pulled out the photos and spread them across the table.

"There's a mark here," she said, pointing at the victim's cheek. "And another one here," she added, indicating another blemish on the victim's temple. "The source of these is unidentified. It didn't come from the rebar. The theory is that the attacker took a couple of swings at him with his fist before picking up the weapon."

"You think it's a ring?" Goren asked her.

"It could be," she agreed. "When I noticed the marks, I had those photos blown up."

She pulled out two more pictures, each one a close-up of the marks in question. Eames pulled a file from her bag and then got out a picture. She set it down on the table next to Liz's photos.

"What about this ring?" she asked her.

Stahl had kept a blown up PR photo of Hassan, one which was centered on his hand. He wore an interesting ring, one that was shaped like the head of a lion. We could only guess that she'd pulled the autopsy photos and matched up the ring.

"I'd say you have a match," Liz agreed. "Look at the pattern from the mane. It's intricate and yet it's clearly consistent to the wound on his cheek."

"So it comes together like this," Goren said. "We know that Hassan must have approached Stahl. He offered her money in exchange for information. She agreed, but during one of those meetings, she recognized Jill and she began her research. She was probably afraid for her life, especially after Ross was killed. But ties with Hassan are only severed when he's ready. So Stahl figured that she would continue offering him information, but she also told him about the evidence that she had against him. She figured that way she could be assured that he wouldn't kill her when he was done using her."

"Which is pretty much what you guessed, right?" Liz asked.

"It is, but it helps to know," Eames responded.

"Right," I agreed. "It'll help us take him down when the time is right. Motivation is a huge factor. He was motivated by passion when he killed Bruto and now he's driven by fear."

"Fear?" she questioned me.

"Fear of exposure. Stahl wasn't supposed to have ended up dead. He had no idea what she'd done with that information and then when Banta found that article, and bluffed his way into a meeting with Hassan…well, the fact that Hassan bit on it tells us that he's deathly afraid of Toscano finding out the truth. He'll do whatever it takes to keep that from happening."

"You mean like killing everyone involved so that he can be sure his secret remains safe," Liz stated with concern.

"Something like that," I agreed. I grabbed onto her hand under the table. "But with the evidence that Stahl amassed on Hassan, we can arrest him. We've got him dead to rights, even without the weapons charges."

"Of course, we'd still like to get him on the weapons charges," Goren added. "I want to get him on everything."

"So now what? You just have to find him?" Liz questioned.

"Sort of," Eames replied with a smile. "We have an idea about that."

"Why am I not surprised?" Liz responded. But I was glad to see that she was holding it together. Surely she was worried, but not like before. "So what's this idea?"

"Well, we don't need to find him," I told her. "We're going to let him find us."

TBC...


	42. Chapter 42

**Alex POV**

* * *

I was filled with a sense of growing excitement at the realization that this case was coming to an end.

And we were going to catch him.

The fact that we'd found those encrypted files…it was unbelievable.

It almost made up for _how_ we'd managed to get them.

Bobby had gone to the hooker.

"Who's the hooker?" Rodgers asked when Logan started to tease us about it.

We'd spent the past hour going over our plan for what came next, but now that business was out of the way, it was time to unwind a little.

"She's an agent," Bobby answered, casting a slightly nervous glance in my direction.

"An agent with a thing for Bobby," I elaborated.

"Oh, do tell," she responded with a grin.

"She works in Cyber Crimes," Logan said. "So we pimped Goren out in order to get her to scour Stahl's old computer for us."

"Pimped him out?"

"Yes, they did," Bobby agreed, although he was laughing. He put his arm around me and added, "And we're removing that strategy from the playbook from now on, okay?"

"Why?" I asked him innocently. "It worked like a charm."

"Yeah, well I was already down to only two suit jackets, since we can't go home, and now I'm down to one."

"One?" Liz asked. "Why, what happened to the other one?"

"Hooker likes to lay on the perfume," I said in an exaggerated whisper.

"Uh huh," Bobby said with a nod. "And I seem to remember a time when that really made you upset. It doesn't seem to be bothering you so much today."

"Maybe I'm a little more confident about us now than I was before," I admitted.

I wasn't normally so open in front of other people, but honestly after spending so much time with Rodgers and Logan, they didn't really seem like _other_ people.

They were friends. Good friends.

"Good," Bobby said, leaning over to give me a quick kiss.

I guess he felt the same way, because we weren't much for public displays of affection, either. Well, public as in specifically in _front_ of people. Not public, as in venue.

Our two nights at the pier were still personal favorites of mine.

"And it does bother me a little," I told him. "Not that I think you'd do anything wrong, but just because I don't want her getting the wrong idea."

"Oh, she got the wrong idea," Logan said with a grin. "Why do you think she was so willing to spend half of her day illegally searching through a dead agent's computer?"

"What exactly did you promise this woman, Goren?" Rodgers asked him.

"I made no promises," he said, shaking his head.

"He didn't have to," Logan said. "He just smiled at her and asked for her help, and then suggested that maybe Eames and I leave the two of them alone."

"Detective Goren," Rodgers said in feigned surprise.

"I know," he lamented. "Although you know, Logan, she was checking you out, too. I think maybe she would've breached protocol if you'd been the one asking."

"Should I be worried?" Rodgers asked me, although she looked anything but.

"No," we all answered at the same time.

"Honestly, she's not unattractive," I said. "But between the perfume and the helpless female act, I don't know how any man can stand to be around her."

"And yet I put up with her. _All day_," Bobby reminded me. "Just for the good of the case."

"You think you deserve some kind of reward?" I teased.

"Yes, that's exactly what I think."

"Okay, I'm pretty sure I don't want to hear where this is going," Logan said quickly. My phone started ringing, so I pulled it out.

"It's Maas. I guess you're off the hook, Logan," I said just before answering. "Eames."

"Sorry it took me so long," he said. I'd called him when we first arrived at Pete's. "I was in with Moran on another matter. What's going on?"

"We made a lot of headway, thanks to the open invitation you managed to secure from Casteel. I think we're ready to make a move tomorrow, and I thought you might want to get the rundown."

"Sure. Where are you?"

I looked around the table at the cozy setting. We couldn't let Maas see us like this, but with some minor adjusting it would work okay, so I gave him directions to Pete's.

"You invited the deputy chief of D's to come here?" Logan asked me.

"What are you worried about? You're not the one in an illicit relationship," I reminded him. "Now get up and switch places with me."

"Oh, so you're the one dating Rodgers," Bobby joked. "I thought it was me."

"Yeah, and I thought it was me," Logan added as he got up from his chair.

I started to stand up, but Bobby caught me by the arm and kissed me again. This one wasn't quite so quick, and I wasn't sure what had brought on his desire to do so, but I nearly forgot the fact that one of our bosses was probably only about five minutes away.

I looked at him quizzically when he pulled back, but he just shrugged and smiled at me.

"Who knows how long this meeting will last?" he said in explanation.

I loved seeing him in such a good mood. He was feeling it, the same as me.

Closing a case was always invigorating, but this particular case…we'd spent a year of our time working on it. It had taken the life of our former boss.

This case was personal, and the idea that we could see the light at the end of the tunnel…well, I practically felt downright giddy.

"Get your ass out of the chair, Eames," Logan said.

"I'm sorry, you mean Captain Eames, right?" I questioned as I stood up.

I didn't make any move to get out of his way though. Instead, I stood right in front of him, blocking his path to the chair.

"Are we on the clock? Because that didn't look like we were on the clock," he joked.

"You're feeling awfully brave," I told him challengingly, although of course I was teasing, too.

"It's been a day for bold declarations," he replied, casting a glance at Rodgers. Then he smiled and added, "And I think…maybe…"

He just trailed off from there and I had no idea what he was talking about, but I finally moved out of his way and sat down next to Rodgers, who was smiling back at Logan.

"Okay, we all look entirely too happy," I declared.

"Right," Bobby agreed. "Maas will be here any minute. We need to be serious."

"And why am I here?" Rodgers asked.

"You brought us the autopsy photos," I reminded her. "Which you did. There's no reason for you to lie about anything."

"Okay, so tomorrow you're going to go through the front door of the federal building, is that right?" Logan stated. Today we'd used a basement entrance through the parking garage so that we wouldn't be spotted. But that wasn't part of our plan for tomorrow.

"That's right," I agreed.

"I'm still not sure if that's the best way," Bobby said.

"You know it is. We definitely can't use Logan, and you caused a lot of trouble for Hassan last year. He'll consider both of you as adversaries. Besides, Hassan is much less likely to get violent with a woman. "

"I'm not sure if _less likely to get violent_ is a ringing endorsement," Logan said, taking up Bobby's side. Although we'd been through this argument before. Three times, actually.

"It'll work. I'll go into the federal building and then come out an hour or so later. Odds are good that they'll be watching, especially since their little plan to reel us into the apartment didn't work."

"How do you know they'll approach you?"

"I don't," I admitted. "But I think they'll follow me to the hotel. And once they know where to find me, it'll be a waiting game."

"What if he doesn't try to talk to you? What if he just sends Gino up to take you out?" Bobby posed.

"He won't. He wants to know what we know. I'll be the least threatening insight into the bureau's knowledge."

I held Bobby's gaze from across the table and he slowly nodded his head. I knew he wasn't crazy about the plan, but we'd been over it so many times and we hadn't come up with a better way.

And this would work, I was sure of it.

The gravity of the conversation put us in the perfect mood for Maas' arrival. He approached the table, surreptitiously eyeballing Rodgers before pulling up a chair.

"Sorry to interrupt your dinner," he said, although our plates had been cleared nearly thirty minutes ago.

"We're past the food and onto the liquor," Logan told him.

"Sounds good," he said, waving to the waitress.

She came over and looked curiously at me and Logan for a moment and then shook her head. She hadn't been back since we'd made our switch and we'd apparently confused her.

Although at the risk of sounding like an intellectual snob, I got the feeling that it wouldn't take much at all to confuse her.

Maas placed his order and then the waitress stared at me.

"So, do _you_ want the Jack and Coke? Or do you want to stick with the martini?"

"Martini," I said with a forced smile.

"I'm the Jack," Logan reminded her.

"Right," she stated, still looking back and forth. "So…how am I splitting the check?"

_Oh my God…_

"Don't split it, sweetheart," Logan told her quickly. "Just put it all on one."

She finally left and I rushed to fill in the awkward silence that had fallen over the table.

"We found evidence that Hassan committed a murder in 2008. Stahl was holding it over his head," I began, and then the three of us went on from there, taking turns filling him in on everything that we'd learned.

Rodgers jumped in when it came time to go over the autopsy photos and within twenty minutes, we had him up to speed.

We were only interrupted once, when the waitress came back. Of course, she wanted to serve me Logan's drink. I didn't argue, but instead just waited for her to leave and then we traded drinks.

"So, you're going to get a hotel room," Maas stated thoughtfully. "And then what? Just go through your day as if you aren't waiting for a murdering weapons dealer to drop by and say hello?"

"Stahl's notes documented how he approached her," I told him. "She said that she felt like she was followed one night but she didn't think anything of it. The next morning, he approached her outside of her building, and he asked her to get into his car with him."

"You're not getting into his car," Maas said firmly.

"That's what I said," Bobby agreed.

"He's not going to kill me," I responded. "Especially when I tell him what I've done with the evidence."

"Which is what?" he asked cautiously.

"The story is that it's in a safety deposit box," Logan answered. "And Eames put the key in her desk at the Bureau, along with instructions to use the key in the event of her disappearance or death."

I saw Bobby wince at Logan's statement, but Maas was looking at me.

"And you're confident that this little blackmail stunt is enough to secure your life? Because maybe you're willing to risk it, but I'm not."

"I appreciate that. But we've discussed this at length. Hassan desperately wants to go on with his business and right now he's afraid to do that. He has no idea who knows what, so he's having to lie low. He wants answers and killing me won't give him answers."

"So you anticipate that he'll watch the hotel overnight and then pick you up."

"Right. Goren and Logan will be tailing me. Hassan will take me somewhere and we'll work out an arrangement."

"What kind of arrangement?"

I glanced across at Bobby, just one more time for confirmation.

"I'm going to insist on taking Stahl's place," I told him. "I'm going to be the new Bureau mole."

TBC...


	43. Chapter 43

**Bobby POV**

* * *

It took every ounce of my faith in Alex to go along with the plan.

I tried to be objective about it.

I tried to look at it from a non-personal angle.

In the end, I had to go with the fact that Alex was the best cop I knew.

She'd never let a guy like Hassan get the drop on her. She was much too smart for that.

If Stahl had survived while working with him, then Alex could do it, too.

Banta had just been greedy. And careless. And he didn't know all of the facts.

I felt pretty sure that we did.

Once we got Hassan to hire Alex as his mole, then we could once again work the money trail.

We'd also arrange to get Semere released. Hassan would think it was her doing, maybe as a sign of good faith.

And then he'd be willing to go about his business.

Because as long as he was hiding, we weren't going to catch him on anything new. But this way, we'd be able to catch him in the act of something.

Just like we were supposed to do last week. Banta had ruined it, but getting another insider connection should pave the way.

We knew Hassan still needed that shipment of weapons. He had a buyer in Yemen who had already made a down payment. He was going to need to move fast to find a replacement shipment or to get back in touch with Semere once we let him out on the streets.

And when he did that, we'd get him.

Once we arrested him, we could also charge him with Bruto's murder in addition to bribery of law enforcement.

"I'm thinking that we arrest one of the Toscano boys and put him in the same cell with Hassan," Logan commented once we were back at Rodgers' place. "Save the taxpayers some money."

"Normally, I'd be appalled by the suggestion, but in this case…I don't know. I'm almost willing to let the chips fall where they may," I told him.

"Almost?" Rodgers asked. "Surely you don't feel sorry for him."

"I don't. But I do believe in letting the justice system do its job."

"Him, dying in prison," Logan remarked. "That would be justice."

"We have to catch him first," Alex said quietly.

I knew that her mind was already on tomorrow's task.

Maas was procuring an undetectable wire for Alex to wear.

He was going to meet up with us first thing in the morning and he'd insisted on helping Logan and me with the surveillance.

He was worried about her, I could tell, and I appreciated his commitment to providing us with adequate back up.

Because _worried_ wasn't the word I would use to describe how I felt.

In fact, I wasn't even going to put a label on it. I didn't want to give it life by acknowledging its existence.

Instead, I was going to be supportive, both personally and professionally, and I was going to make damn sure that absolutely nothing went wrong.

And despite the slight bickering Logan and I had been conducting, I knew that he was on the same page with me.

He cared about Alex. A lot.

Over the past few months, I'd wondered from time to time if maybe he had a crush on her. I wouldn't blame him if he did, and I knew he'd never act on it, but still…I'd wondered.

Although seeing him now with Rodgers, I knew that any thoughts he may have had about Alex were long gone.

The two of them were sitting on the loveseat and he was holding her feet in his lap. He'd taken off her tennis shoes and socks and was now rubbing her feet while carrying on the conversation with us.

I idly wondered if they realized that they were in love with each other.

I mean, _I_ could see it.

Alex could probably see it, too, although we hadn't talked about it.

But I didn't know if they'd admitted it to each other yet.

"We'll get him," Logan responded. "You'll sell your story, we'll keep an eye on you, and then he'll commit a crime again. It's the natural order of things."

"How long do you think it'll take for him to approach you?" Rodgers asked Alex.

"Not long. I'll go to the hotel at lunch time, and then leave again and go back to the federal building. Late afternoon, I'll return to the hotel. I'm guessing he'll hit me up at some point tomorrow or the next day."

"He's in too much of a hurry not to," I added. "Breaking into our apartment was reckless. He's in desperation mode."

"Well, he's got three million dollars of Yemeni money without the promised product," Logan said. "That's enough to make anyone nervous."

We called it a night shortly thereafter. I wanted to have Alex to myself for a little while. She'd been much too quiet for my liking and I needed to know where her head was.

"It's not too late to alter our plan," I reminded her as we got undressed.

"I don't want to."

"What if we've read him wrong?"

"So it was okay to risk Logan's life, but not mine?" she countered. "I don't think so."

"It's not a competition. We're not keeping track of the score here, Alex. Hassan isn't the same man as when he first approached Stahl. He's not even the same man he was at the sting last week."

"I'm not changing my mind," she said firmly.

"I'm not asking you to," I replied. I reached for her, pulling her into my arms. "I just want to make sure that _you're_ sure."

She rested her cheek against my bare chest and then let out a long breath.

"Logan's in love with her, isn't he?" she questioned, clearly ready to talk about something other than work.

"I think so."

"You know, I never would've put them together, but it really seems to work."

"It's only been a couple of weeks," I reminded her, even though I agreed with her assessment.

"Yeah, but…I don't know. I suppose it's either there or it isn't. And they've known each other for a long time."

We continued to stand next to the bed, getting comfort from simply holding each other. I ran my hand over her hair and then kissed the top of her head.

"I guess we're going back to the fish bowl, huh?" she murmured. "I'll be miked up…everything we say will be recorded…"

"It won't be for long," I promised. "And when we're done, it'll _really_ be done."

The next morning, we stopped off at the Tribeca Grand so that Alex could secure a room and then we met Maas at 1PP.

"I still don't like the idea of you getting into a car with him," Maas stated as he handed her the tiny microphone made to look like a button. It was mostly hollowed out and was designed so that it could slip over top of an existing button.

I fought back the urge to help her affix the mike and for some reason she must have known what I was thinking, because as I forced my eyes away from the area between her breasts, she flashed me a smirk.

"And I don't like that you won't be able to hear us," Maas continued, oblivious to my ogling of my boss. "How can we get word to you if we find out that you need to pull the plug?"

"Oh, I've got an idea for that," Logan spoke up. "Switch the ringtone associated with my number to something unique. If we need to abort the plan, I'll call from my phone."

"You think I have your number in my cell phone?" she teased him.

I loved that she was relaxed.

Our brief and yet intense love-making session this morning might have something to do with it.

In fact, I'm going to take all of the credit for it. She'd been as tight as a drum when the alarm went off and now she wasn't.

And yeah, I know. Alex is a clutch shooter and probably would've been fine by this point anyway, but like I said…I'm going to say that it's because of me.

"I'm sure it's pretty high up in your list of speed dials," Logan retorted.

Alex pulled out her phone and began scrolling through her address book.

"I can't remember how I logged you in," she mumbled. "The A's maybe? For asshole?"

"Nah, look in the S's for stud," he quipped.

"Uh uh. That's me," Maas spoke up, causing all of us to start laughing. "Logan, you'll be listed under…"

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Moran said loudly as he came into the room. I'm sure he hadn't been expecting laughter, but sometimes it was required before going into something like this. "I was just coming to make sure you guys were ready."

"Absolutely," Alex answered, getting herself under control. Then she looked at me and said, "Okay, Logan has his own ring tone, so don't use his phone unless it's an emergency. If I hear it, I'll get out as quickly as possible."

"I need to be kept apprised of the progress," Moran said firmly. "And Eames…don't take any chances. It's not worth it."

"Yes sir," she replied, although I could read her expression. She didn't entirely agree. Catching Hassan _was_ worth a certain amount of risk. We were already too invested to think otherwise.

"When do you expect him to make contact?"

Alex and Logan both looked to me, so I fielded the question.

"My guess is that it won't be until tomorrow morning."

"So you're staying there all night?" Moran asked, turning to Alex. "Alone?"

"Logan and Goren will both stay in the hotel, too," she answered. "Just in case he decides to try to come up to the room. But I really don't think he will. It could too easily be a trap as far as he's concerned. He'll wait for me to come outside, where he feels more in control of the situation."

"Very good then," Moran said with a nod. He turned to Maas and added, "Captain, keep in touch."

Once Moran left, the nerves took up residence in my stomach again, but it was too late for that.

It was game time.

Although it was more like a baseball game during a rain delay. We weren't exactly sure when the action was going to start, but whenever it did, we had to be ready.

Logan and I spent most of the morning in the car.

At lunch time, we followed Alex from the federal building to the Tribeca Grand, which was about six blocks away.

Maas was in a separate car, taking a different route. The more eyes we'd have on Alex the better, but we also didn't want both of us to get caught up in the same traffic.

We waited patiently while she went inside. The plan was for her to spend about thirty minutes in her room before coming back outside and making the walk back to work.

She'd only been inside for a few minutes when I got a text. I read it out loud to Logan.

_**Any sign of him?**_

"I don't see a thing," Logan commented, keeping his eyes on the surrounding area. "I guess he could be in a different car."

"He could," I agreed as I scanned the cars parked along the side of the road, searching for signs of life inside.

_**Not yet**_, I typed back.

_**I'm going to take my time walking back**_, she answered.

"She's got some guts," Logan remarked. "She wasn't even breaking a sweat this morning. Liz is pretty impressed with her. Me, too."

"Liz," I mused. "How are things with the two of you?"

_**I'll be watching**_, I told her.

"Honestly?" Logan asked, glancing at me quickly before returning his gaze to the street. "It's better than I ever expected. And I'm not talking about the sex." Then he chuckled and added, "Although that too."

"I don't need to hear details."

"Good, because I wasn't going to give you any. I'm just saying..."

_**That's why I'm not worried,**_ she replied.

I smiled after reading her words.

"Just saying what?" I asked Logan when he didn't finish his sentence.

"She's…she's…exactly what I've been looking for, only I didn't know what that was until now."

I paused while typing my reply to Alex because Logan's profound statement took me by surprise. He cast me a couple of quick looks, presumably in an effort to gauge my response.

I was pretty sure once the words had left his mouth, he was wishing to have them back.

"That's a good thing, right?"

"I hope so. At least it's good until she gets tired of me."

"Are you so sure that she will? She's been looking pretty content lately."

"Yeah, she…hey, Goren."

He pointed through the windshield at a dark blue car that was making its way down the block.

"That's lap number two," he told me. "And there's an empty parking space over there."

We watched the car as it once again passed the available spot and then I erased the dirty text I'd been getting ready to send to Alex and instead wrote:

_**He's circling the block. Time to go to work**_.

Five minutes later, Alex came out of the front doors of the hotel. Logan and I clicked on our mikes.

"It's on," I said.

"Don't get too close," Maas warned us. "I've got your back."

I didn't expect that Hassan would do anything except follow her back to work. It bothered me that we hadn't spotted him sooner because he must have been watching when she left the federal building. Otherwise he wouldn't have known that she was in this hotel.

"We've got the car now," Logan said quietly, reading my mind.

It was tough to be inconspicuous while following a car that was surreptitiously following a pedestrian, but Logan did an excellent job.

I just kept my eyes on Alex.

"He's pulling over," Logan said. I glanced further up the block and saw the blue sedan parked next to the sidewalk about twenty yards ahead of where Alex was walking.

"He _is_ in a hurry," Alex said under her breath. "This is it."

The back door of the car came open, but no one was visible. Logan managed to miss the stoplight, being the first car in line, but with a good excuse to stop while the scene was unfolding in front of us.

"_**Alexandra Eames. I wonder if I could have a minute of your time,"**_ Hassan said as he slowly got out of the car.

At the sight of him, my stomach knotted and I was filled with fear.

What in the hell had we been thinking? This was too dangerous…

"_**I was hoping you'd find me,"**_ Alex replied. _**"And you didn't disappoint."**_

"_**You wanted me to find you?"**_ he asked cautiously, looking up and down the street.

I felt like I had a neon sign flashing over my head, but his gaze moved quickly past our car. There was no way he'd be able to make us out through the windshield, not at this distance.

"_**Well, you've been looking for me for nearly a week, haven't you?"**_ she reminded him, standing confidently in front of him. _**"So don't you think it's odd that suddenly here I am?"**_

"_**You have a death wish? Surely there are less painful ways to die."**_

"He's bluffing," Logan muttered.

"He'd damn well better be."

"_**You don't want to kill me,"**_ she told him.

_**"Why not? You helped to kill my associates."**_

_**"That was self-preservation. I'm sure you can understand that."**_

_**"Maybe,"**_ he agreed.

_**"Besides, I have something that you want. And you have something that I want. So let's put the past in the past because I think that maybe we can help each other."**_

Hassan stared at her for another minute and then nodded his head.

"_**Let's go for a ride,"**_ he told her, stepping back so that she could get into the backseat.

"_**I need to be back in half an hour,"**_ she warned. _**"And it wouldn't be good for you if people start looking for me. You never know what they might find."**_

Hassan broke into a broad grin and said, _**"Beautiful **_**and**_** smart. You must make Agent Goren a happy man."**_

"Agent," I remarked, mindful of Maas on the com system. "Hassan has old intel. He's definitely still working from what Stahl gave him."

"Which means that Banta didn't tell him anything," Logan said.

"And Hassan is flouting his information," Maas added. "He wants her to know that he knows details."

"Well, he doesn't know everything," I replied quietly.

And then I watched with my heart in my throat as Alex climbed into the car.

Hassan got in behind her and closed the door.

TBC...


	44. Chapter 44

**Alex POV**

* * *

When I got into Hassan's car, I didn't think much about the gun on my hip.

I didn't expect that it would do me much good.

Hassan knew it was there and surely Gino would be packing heat, and aside from that, it wasn't the greatest idea to open fire inside of a car.

What I _did_ think about was the knife in my pocket.

Bobby's knife.

He'd given it to me just before we left 1PP. Logan had managed to _accidentally_ close the elevator doors, leaving me and Bobby behind to catch the next one on our own, so we had nearly two whole minutes alone in the four-by-four car.

_"He might take your gun,_" he'd said quietly, holding the knife in the palm of his hand.

I didn't remind him that Hassan might very well take the knife, too. It wouldn't surprise me if he patted me down thoroughly, just to be on the safe side.

Instead, I took the knife and slipped it into my pocket.

"_I'll give this back to you later,"_ I promised.

_"When Hassan's in handcuffs and we're back to being strictly employees of the NYPD_," he replied.

"_Right,"_ I agreed with a smile. He was nervous, I could tell. More so than me. "_Relax. Hassan's no different than Marcovic or the White Plains killer…"_

_"White Plains,"_ he repeated, a hint of a smile finally showing on his face. "_You mean the one killing prostitutes and their johns?"_

_"That's the one. That was an interesting undercover, wasn't it?"_

_"I liked the _after_ the undercover,"_ he answered in a low voice.

_"So we'll celebrate the after this time the same way, okay?"_ I suggested.

That had brought out a full smile, and he'd hugged me quickly before we separated and stepped off the elevator.

Now, sitting in the backseat next to Hassan, I appreciated the slight weight of the knife.

Gino Bisetti was in the front passenger seat and the unidentified man from the ATM footage was driving.

Neither of them looked back and neither looked nervous.

They didn't suspect that we were being followed.

"What do you have that you think I want?" Hassan began as the car pulled away from the curb.

"First things first. Let's talk about what I want," I countered.

I needed to set the ground rules and establish that I wasn't a pushover.

"That's not too hard. My guess is that it's money, right? It's always about money with people like you."

"People like me?"

"Americans. You're greedy. You think you deserve the world, and you want it handed to you on a silver platter."

"I don't need it on a platter," I countered. "You can just put it in my bank account. And I think I do deserve it. I'm taking a big risk coming to you."

"Yes, you are. And why is that? Last week you caused a lot of trouble for me."

"That's in the past, remember?"

"But what's changed?"

"Since then, I've seen Stahl's bank accounts. She made over five million from you in less than a year."

"She did a lot for me. She was agreeable to all kinds of…things."

As he said the words, he settled his hand on my thigh and flashed me a smile.

I put my hand on top of his, returning his smile, and then I picked up his hand and moved it off of my leg.

"Not those kinds of things," I stated firmly.

"Oh, right. Because of Agent Goren. Does he know that you're here?"

"No. Why should he?"

"Because you two are together. And he has a vested interest in my capture, so you can understand my concern."

"I understand it, but it's unfounded," I replied casually. "I don't answer to him, and I certainly don't seek his approval of my daily schedule before leaving the house."

"You're an independent woman," he said, once again showing me his teeth. "He must be a spineless man to tolerate such behavior. As your potential business partner, I appreciate your liberated attitude, but if you were in my bed…"

"I'm not," I reminded him adamantly. "And just because I'm in his doesn't mean he has any say over what I do. It's just sex. Surely you can understand the need to satisfy physical needs without maintaining any kind of emotional attachment."

"You surprise me, Alexandra."

"It's Agent Eames," I corrected. "And you've just wasted ten minutes of our time discussing my personal life. Now can we talk business, or would you rather we waste more time by speculating on positions and foreplay?"

Gino started chuckling in the front seat, although he still never looked back.

He was definitely listening.

And he was also in charge of the two in the front because I noticed him directing the driver on where to turn.

"Forgive me for being so personal, but I need to know who I'm dealing with."

"And do you know now?"

"I'm dealing with a woman who's used to getting what she wants," he replied. "And who doesn't mind stepping on a few toes to get it. I like that."

"You'll like this even better. I have evidence against you. I could arrest you today for murder."

"I don't kill people, Agent Eames."

I looked at him dubiously and then casually leaned back against the seat.

"That's a striking ring," I commented, nodding my head toward the lion's head ring on his finger.

"Yes, thank you."

"I'm not sure if I've ever seen anything quite like it," I continued meaningfully.

He caught my drift.

He nodded thoughtfully and then smiled again.

"I want the name of the man who pretended to be Semere," he demanded.

"No."

"Then we have no arrangement."

"Fine," I bluffed. "Stop the car."

The driver looked questioningly at Hassan, who shook his head.

"Why would you care if I had such information?"

"Because enough of my colleagues have been killed already. That man was just a pawn used by the FBI in order to catch you. He has no personal stake in this. Killing him would be pointless."

"I believe that's my decision to make."

"Since you need me to give you his name, I actually think it's my decision. And my answer is no."

"Then what is it that you want to offer me?"

"Information on the progress of the Bureau's investigations. Wasn't that Stahl's deal?"

"That was part of it, yes," he said, once again placing his hand on my thigh. "But first, trust needs to be earned."

"If you're suggesting sexual favors, you're wasting your time," I said in annoyance. I shoved his hand out of the way and turned in the seat so that I was fully facing him. "But I can do something else to show my commitment."

"I'm listening."

"I can arrange to have the charges against Semere dropped."

"How do you plan to do that?"

"It'll be a matter of misplacing evidence," I told him. "And then you'll be free to conduct your deal. I believe you're still in need of weapons, right?"

"You are thorough," he agreed. "Yes, I would like to conduct the deal as originally planned. So you don't want any more dead agents, but you don't mind the idea of me selling weapons to Yemeni rebels?"

"Guys like you can be found in every crack and crevice. If you don't sell them the weapons, someone else will."

"True. How soon can you have Semere released?"

"How soon can you put a hundred thousand dollars into my account?" I questioned as I handed him a slip of paper.

I'd written down the number to a drop cell we'd purchased, along with the number to an account I'd recently opened for the purpose of accepting the wire transfer.

He glanced at it briefly and then tucked the paper in his pocket before returning his gaze to me.

"What will you tell Agent Goren about the money?"

"Nothing. Why are you so concerned about him?"

"I'm wondering how you plan to keep this from him. Agent Stahl was a single woman and answered to no one."

"Make no mistake about it," I replied firmly. "I answer to no one. And as for being able to keep a secret from him…well, I've been sleeping with his best friend for six months now and he's completely clueless. How's that for keeping a secret?"

Hassan barked out a laugh and nodded enthusiastically.

"The money will be in your account by the end of business today."

"Then Semere will be released by tomorrow afternoon."

"Just like that?"

"No. You need to drop the search for the agents involved in the bust last week. I don't want any more deaths. And I want to be able to go home without worrying who might show up on my doorstep."

"Done."

"Just like that?" I asked, echoing his statement.

"I have a business to run. As long as I'm free to do so, I don't care what the FBI does," he said resolutely. Then he called up to the driver, "Stop the car."

"Fair enough. And if you get any ideas about changing your mind…"

I trailed off as I ran one finger over the top of his ring.

His reaction to my earlier mention of it told me that Stahl had let him know exactly what type of evidence that she had against him. The fact that he continued to wear the ring was baffling, although I guess he figured that since he was wearing it in a documented photograph then it wouldn't matter.

"A light touch for such a strong woman," he commented. But his tone was serious and he'd definitely picked up on my meaning. "Perhaps you'd reconsider adjusting the terms of our agreement."

Men were so predictable. And the fact that I'd apparently caught his interest sexually would work to my advantage. It might keep him off-balance and possibly more eager to trust me.

I leaned in a little closer to him and said softly, "I don't think so. I'm entirely too much woman for you."

He smiled broadly and nodded his head.

"We'll see about that," he declared. The car was parked along the curb by this point, so he turned and reached for the door handle and then said to the driver, "Take Agent Eames back to her office."

Then he looked back at me and reached for my hand.

"I'll be in touch," he said smoothly. He kissed the back of my hand and added, "Until next time, Alexandra."

He got out and took off at a quick pace down a side street.

It was a smart move, just in case we were being watched. The tail would have to decide whether to follow him or the car.

I knew that Logan and Bobby would follow the car and hopefully Maas would be nearby to follow Hassan. It would be nice to get a handle on where he was staying.

Gino got out of the front seat and climbed into the back before the driver pulled away from the curb.

The move made me nervous, so as he switched positions, I slid my hand into my pocket and pulled out the knife, holding it closely against my leg so that he wouldn't see it.

"What's your deal?" he asked me, looming over me in a threatening manner.

"My deal is with your boss, not you," I answered.

I didn't move away from him even though I wanted to. I didn't want him to think that I was afraid.

"And it's my job to look out for his best interests. I'm not sure you're it."

"Wow, I guess you really can put a price on loyalty, huh? Fifty grand turned you into his watchdog in a hurry, didn't it? I don't know though…are you worth it?"

"I'm worth it," he insisted. "What about you? He's going to pay you a hundred large."

"So you do pay attention."

"I pay attention. But I'm not sure he's getting his money's worth out of you."

"I'm worth every penny," I told him.

"I bet you are," he said, raking his eyes over me. "Only not for what he's getting."

"Too bad you'll never know."

"Oh, come on, sugar. Don't play hard to get."

"I'm way above your pay grade, Gino."

He reached his hand out and grabbed onto my hair, jerking my head back.

"I think that you need a lesson in how things work, sugar," he said gruffly, shifting again so that he was almost completely covering me.

I moved the knife from the side of my leg, flicking it open and holding it against his crotch.

"_This_ is how things work," I said evenly. "You touch me again and you lose your dick. Capisce?"

He didn't move right away, but instead stayed close, apparently gauging the seriousness of my threat. He leaned closer, as if he was thinking about kissing me, and I applied more pressure with the knife.

"Hey, Gino, come on man. I ain't cleaning up no blood," the driver called back.

"Shut up, Dorsey. I'll do whatever the fuck I want."

"You fuck up this deal for the boss and you won't be doing much of anything," the guy named Dorsey replied.

Gino finally moved off of me, sitting back against the seat and letting out an irritated grunt.

I guess he didn't expect me to respond, but he didn't know me very well.

I immediately turned to him and jammed the knife up against his throat.

"Try that again and see what happens," I warned.

"Relax," he scoffed. "I was just testing you."

"For what? To see if I'd give in to you when I wouldn't to Hassan?"

"Some chicks will blow the body guard just to gain his trust. They think it'll make me less likely to hurt them when they screw over the boss."

"Yeah, well this chick isn't interested in blowing anybody, okay?" I retorted as I moved the knife away and sat back in the seat. "I'm just trying to make some money, just like you."

"Not just like me. You're selling out the FBI, which means you're selling out your family."

Dorsey stopped the car and I looked out to see that we were a block away from the federal building. I reached for the handle but looked back at Gino.

"Yeah, well maybe we're not so different after all."

TBC...


	45. Chapter 45

**Logan POV**

* * *

"So we're sitting there listening to Eames play up to this guy, and she's doing an incredible job…I mean, just brilliant. Hassan is hanging on her every word. And then he asks her how he's supposed to trust that she can keep a secret from Goren."

"Because he thinks she's in a relationship with him," Liz stated. "Which is true, only it's supposedly just a cover story."

"Exactly."

We were sitting in a hotel room at the Tribeca.

Goren and Eames were in the room next door. We didn't think that Hassan would try anything inside of the hotel, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't call her from outside the front of the building and ask her to go for a ride.

Obviously she'd need to be here for that, which meant that Goren and I needed to be here, too.

Eames wouldn't be going anywhere with Hassan without us on her tail.

And Liz…well, I just wanted her here. And she wanted to be here, so it worked out great.

"So anyway, without blinking, she tells him that she's been sleeping with Goren's best friend for the past six months and he didn't have a clue about it."

"His best friend. Meaning you?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips.

I'd wondered briefly if the thought might make her jealous, but it didn't appear to.

And it shouldn't.

I mean, I think a lot of Eames.

In fact, if I was really going to analyze my feelings, I'd probably even say that I loved her.

But not like _that_.

And I'm not sure why except that maybe it was because I couldn't even begin to picture her with anyone but Goren.

"Uh huh. You should've seen the look I got."

"I can imagine."

It had been pretty amusing.

And it had been a stroke of genius on her part.

Nothing spelled sneaky like cheating on a lover, and Hassan needed to know that Eames was sneaky.

Since he clearly knew about their relationship, she had to convince him of the fact that Goren was largely irrelevant and only in the picture because of what he could do for her in the bedroom.

The funny thing was that I was almost confusing myself trying to keep up with which lie was being told to whom and for what.

Hassan knew about the relationship. But he only knew what Goren and Eames had falsely told the FBI in order for them to buy their cover story last year.

Maas didn't know about the relationship.

Or he _did_, but he didn't.

And he did know the FBI cover story, so he'd understand why Eames played up to it, even though she would steadfastly deny it to his face.

So basically, Eames had to pretend it was strictly a sexual relationship for Hassan, a nonexistent relationship to Maas, and then tell the truth to Goren, which was that she was so in love with him that she'd never look at another man.

It was a miracle that she was able to keep everything straight.

But so after she'd made that comment, Goren had looked over at me, and he couldn't say anything because Maas was listening, so instead he'd raised his eyebrow and gave me a stare that said _not in this lifetime_.

Later, after we'd taken off the mikes and were on our way into the federal building, I'd brought it up.

"_What, you don't think she'd sleep with me?"_ I teased.

"_Not in a million years,"_ he replied.

"_I think I could show her a thing or two." _

"_That's not what Rodgers said,"_ he countered.

"_Oh, going for the low blow, huh? So tell me, Goren…what did Rodgers say? Did she tell you we're both going to have to go on the patch after only a couple of weeks?"_

"_On the patch?"_ he asked in amusement.

"_Hell yeah. We smoke after every single time and I'm telling you…the butts are piling up."_

He'd started laughing and I couldn't help but join in.

"_Alex has been timing you,"_ he told me.

"_She's _what_?" _

"_Yeah, you know, you might have me in the repeat performance category, but your staying power could use a little work."_

I recounted that conversation for Liz and she was laughing hard by the time I finished.

"Alex was timing us?" she questioned.

"Well, _me_," I corrected. "With a woman, speed isn't necessarily a bad thing."

"There's not a damn thing wrong with your staying power," she told me.

"Maybe," I mused. "I still hope he was only kidding about that stopwatch."

"I would bet that they have more important things to do than document our sex life."

"I don't know," I countered, pulling her onto my lap. "I find it pretty fascinating."

"Fascinating?"

"Enthralling," I amended as I trailed my fingers across her thigh. "Captivating. Beautiful."

"Beautiful?"

"Okay, so maybe I'm describing you instead of our sex life."

"Mike…"

"Don't argue with me," I whispered, leaning in to kiss the side of her neck. "You're beautiful."

"You almost make me a believer," she said on a sigh.

"Believe it."

"You might think that, but..."

I interrupted her argument when I moved my mouth from her throat up to her lips, kissing her slowly and meaningfully while my hands continued to stroke her thighs.

She shifted against me and moved her hand into my hair and everything just felt so right that I couldn't stop myself from saying the words.

I didn't _want_ to stop myself, because if I weren't such a chicken, I would've said them yesterday morning.

"I don't _think_ it. It just is," I said, pulling back from her just enough so that I could look her in the eyes. "I love you."

* * *

**Bobby POV**

All was quiet and I was really hoping it would stay that way.

At least for tonight.

Alex had done a remarkable job with Hassan. He'd wired the money within a few hours of their meeting, and a little while later he'd called her on the drop cell.

We'd just gotten back to the hotel room when the call came in, which told me that he was probably still watching her since he'd waited until she was away from the federal building.

She'd answered the phone and held it out so that I could listen in on the call.

"_Have you checked your account?"_

"_I did. You work fast."_

"_In instances where speed is impressive, yes I do. But I can assure you that I also know how to take my time." _

She'd rolled her eyes at his suggestive remark and then proceeded to tell him that she'd see to it that Semere was released tomorrow.

"What is it with men?" she complained to me after the phone call. "Why is it that sex always has to get tangled up with money and power?"

"It's not just men," I reminded her. "Women do the same thing. It's human nature. Everyone wants bigger, better, more…"

"Everyone?"

"Okay, not everyone. But you know what I'm saying. For some people, sex is a means of exhibiting power over another. In this case, Hassan thinks that by sleeping with you, he'll gain the upper hand. In his mind, it will reinforce the idea that you're inferior to him. You would be a conquest."

"Do you think Stahl slept with him?"

"Honestly? I would've said no until today. But now I'm not so sure. He almost seemed to expect that you would."

"She certainly didn't document anything like that in her notes."

"Can you blame her?" I asked, reaching out to grab onto her arm to stall her restless pacing. "And maybe she did it before she had the additional leverage. Maybe she thought it would help keep her alive."

"What I don't understand is how she got into bed with him in the first place."

I raised my eyebrow at her as I pulled her into my arms.

"Okay, bad choice of words," she said on a chuckle. "But you know what I mean. Why even make a deal with him to begin with?"

"If he approached her, he might not have given her a choice. Do it or you're dead."

"And she didn't have enough faith in the Bureau to be able to arrest him or to protect her," she mused. "Yeah, I guess I can understand that. I don't agree with it, but I understand it."

"Not everyone is as strong as you."

She relaxed into my embrace, slowly moving her hands along the small of my back.

"The things I said today…"

"You were brilliant," I interrupted. "Logan and I had a good laugh about it."

I didn't want her to worry for one second that words said to a man like Hassan would ever create any kind of rift between us.

"I'm glad that I had your knife," she said quietly.

So was I.

I'd like to get my hands on Gino before this whole thing was over. I'd nearly gone into a panic when I heard what was going on in the car, but then as usual, Alex had come through.

"Next time don't just threaten to cut it off," I told her, releasing my hold on her so that we could get undressed. It was late and we were both tired. "Feel free to actually do it."

"Yeah, but then Dorsey would've had to clean up the blood."

Reginald Dorsey. He was the other guy. We'd been able to find him once we had the last name. He had a record as long as my arm but he'd been clean for the past few months. Prior to that, he'd done a stint in Sing Sing for assault with a deadly weapon and extortion.

I wasn't sure why his DNA hadn't popped in the system. A glitch maybe or a deliberate attempt by someone to erase him.

But either way, he sounded exactly like the kind of guy Hassan would hire.

As for Gino, I couldn't help but wonder how Alex's parting remark was sitting with him.

Was he smart enough to even have paid attention?

Or had he been so concerned with the status of his johnson that he wasn't listening?

"What happened?" I asked Alex when she pulled off her pants and uncovered a large, purple bruise on her thigh. I moved closer to inspect it, running my hand over the area and feeling a pronounced knot.

"Gino," she said in annoyance. "He was trying to climb on top of me and his knee dug into my leg."

That settled it. I was definitely going to get my hands on him before this was over.

"It's fine, Bobby," she said, clearly reading my mind.

"If you hadn't had that knife…"

"But I did. And I got my point across. It's fine."

"You're carrying it with you everywhere you go until this case is over," I stated.

And maybe I sounded a little bit bossy, but I didn't care.

"I will," she promised.

She rubbed her hand over my cheek. I once again had a fairly heavy beard and she liked to touch it. I liked her touching it, too, and I immediately leaned into her palm.

"This is going even better than we'd hoped," she continued. "Tomorrow, we'll plant a GPS on Semere and then we'll let him go. With any luck, he and Hassan will try to hook up quickly to make their weapons deal."

We figured that Hassan would call us before the deal happened. He would surely want the intel on the Bureau's investigation into him.

He hadn't pushed for much today, but now that he'd made the payment, he'd pump Alex for what she could give him.

"It would be nice to wrap this up by the weekend so that we can go back to 1PP on Monday."

"That would be very nice. I hate being out of the office so much. There's no telling what Moran is going to do."

Moran had agreed to spend some time in Alex's office since she wouldn't be able to report in for a couple of days. Originally we'd thought that Maas would do it, but he'd insisted on working with us, so Moran had volunteered.

And I was actually glad that Maas was working with us. He'd been able to follow Hassan earlier today. Although, it hadn't netted us much. Maas had trailed him for eight blocks and then Hassan had gone down the stairs into a subway station. Maas had parked and tried to catch up to him, but he'd been unsuccessful.

"I think we can get away with going to 1PP for a little while," I told her. "We'll just have to make sure no one is following."

She nodded thoughtfully as she climbed into the bed.

"That might work," she agreed.

I got in next to her and she immediately turned onto her side, running her hand over my chest.

"Now what was it you were saying about everyone wanting bigger, better, more?" she asked coyly as her hand began a slow, downward track.

"Well, just that it's a basic characteristic of the alpha male or female," I answered, although my brain was quickly losing focus.

"I've already got bigger," she said as she ran her hand over me. "And I can't imagine it being any better…so how about if you just give me more?"

TBC...


	46. Chapter 46

**Alex POV**

* * *

It's possible that Bobby and I were being a little bit too optimistic about clearing up this case by the end of the weekend.

After all, today was Friday.

I'd be releasing Semere today, and Hassan would definitely be anxious to make a move on the weapons, but still…things could only happen so fast.

We got ready early and the plan was that we would go to the federal building first and then later on, we'd slip out and go over to 1PP for a little while.

I'd suggested that I could go alone, but apparently I wouldn't be going anywhere alone until Hassan was caught.

The independent woman in me was a little annoyed with that declaration, but at the same time, I knew that they were right.

And by _they_ I mean not just Bobby and Logan, but Maas, too.

"_You absolutely do not go anywhere without at least one of us watching,_" Maas had said firmly.

"_Is that an order?"_ I'd fired back, his tone instantly getting my hackles up.

"_If that's what it has to be to get you to comply, then yes," _he responded. Then he softened his tone and added, "_Eames, it's for your own safety. And it's not that I don't think you can take care of yourself. You know that I do. It's just that these guys don't play by the rules, and I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you on my watch."_

"_Am I at least allowed to go to the bathroom by myself?" _I'd replied sarcastically.

He recognized it as a concession to his directive.

"_For now,"_ he'd answered. _"I reserve the right to change my mind about that."_

That had been twenty minutes ago. He'd called to let us know that he was positioned outside of the hotel, hoping to see if any of Hassan's men were staking me out.

He hadn't seen any, but the plan was still for me to leave the hotel alone.

Or to at least let it _appear_ that I was alone.

Bobby and Logan would leave from the employee exit along the side alley.

They'd go to the car and follow, along with Maas, while I made the six-block walk.

It wasn't so much that we cared if Hassan knew that Bobby was staying at the hotel.

In fact, he probably assumed that Bobby _was_ here.

But I definitely didn't want Hassan to catch a glimpse of Logan.

Considering that his identity was the first thing Hassan had asked for…it would be too tempting for Hassan to want to take him out.

And we wanted Bobby to keep a low profile, too, just to make it easier for Hassan if he wanted to reach out to me.

It would also make it more plausible that my relationship with Bobby was purely sexual.

Us, walking together to the office, might indicate a deeper level of commitment.

_If he only knew_, I mused as I pulled on my boots. There were long-married couples who were less committed than Bobby and me.

Logan knocked on our room door at seven forty-five.

Bobby hesitated in front of me on his way to answer the door.

"Your mike's not on yet, is it?" he asked me. I had just slipped the fake button into place.

"Definitely not. Otherwise how would I explain you being in my hotel room?" I replied with a smile.

"Just checking," he answered, and then he leaned down to kiss me, long and hard. Something that might last us through the day.

Or at least that was probably the intent, but all it really did was get me stirred up.

"You like to tease me, don't you?"

"Well, you're getting offers of sex thrown at you right and left," he replied casually with a grin. "I just want to make sure you remember who butters your bread."

I shook my head, laughing at his remark, as Logan knocked again.

"Come on, guys!" he called through the door.

"I guess Rodgers left for work already," Bobby mumbled to me as he unlocked the door. "Are you in a hurry, Logan?"

"Yeah, aren't you? I'd like to be able to go home some time this century, maybe stop using a one-hour dry cleaners every day."

"I didn't think you'd be going home," I said innocently. "I figured you'd be packing your bags and moving into Rodgers' place."

I was only teasing him, but he answered me seriously.

"I'm not pushing her into anything like that. I'm not easy to live with."

"You two have been practically living together already," Bobby pointed out. "What's the difference?"

"Hey, are we working or are we talking about my love life?"

"Love life?" I asked quickly. "Last week you called it your sex life."

"Interesting development," Bobby added with a grin.

Logan rolled his eyes dramatically and then made a point of looking at his watch.

"Are we ready or what?"

"We're ready," I told him.

I had to let him off the hook because he was getting so flustered. It was actually very sweet.

And now I had another reason to want this case to be over in a hurry.

I needed to get together with Rodgers. And I needed to start calling her Liz.

I grabbed my jacket and headed for the door, where Logan stood tapping his foot.

"Alex, you've got the knife?" Bobby asked as he followed me through the door.

It was only the tenth time that he'd asked me that question in the past thirty minutes, but I was going to let it slide.

"Yes, I do," I confirmed. I pushed the button for the elevator and then said, "I should go down by myself. Maas didn't see anyone, but you never know. They could be sitting in the lobby or something."

"Okay," Bobby agreed with a nod. "We'll get the next one. Walk slowly."

"And turn on your mike," Logan added.

I stepped onto the elevator and switched on the com device.

I didn't see any sign of Hassan or the others as I went through the lobby, so I casually went through the front doors and began walking down the block.

Two minutes into my walk, Gino stepped out of the shadows of a side alley.

It was the same alley where Bobby and Logan would be exiting the building at any moment, and I was more panicked at the possibility of Logan being seen than I was at the fact that Gino was apparently stalking me.

_And stalking me well_, I added. He'd managed to escape Maas' detection, even though he couldn't possibly know that Maas was watching.

"Shame on you for perpetuating the stereotype, Gino," I said with forced aloofness as he grabbed onto my arm and pulled me with him back into the alley.

"Stereotype?"

"Italian mafia man, lurking in a dark alleyway, trying to play the heavy…"

It was the best I could think of to get word to Bobby and Logan. I couldn't have them coming out that door.

I also didn't want Maas to panic and come after me because that would ruin everything. I figured that as long as I kept talking, he would know that I was okay.

Besides, I hadn't said the code word, and I wasn't about to say it, either. I was pretty sure that Gino approaching me on the sly was a good thing.

"You haven't seen heavy yet," Gino replied. He jerked hard on my arm, throwing me off balance, and then he shoved me face-first into the wall.

"Enjoy it while you can, Gino," I warned.

"Oh, I'm enjoying it," he said as he patted me down. "I'm enjoying it very much."

He ran his hand over the bulge in my pocket where I had the knife, but he didn't make any move to remove it. Instead, he kept my hands pinned against the wall, both of my wrists in one of his hands.

"I should just arrest you right now," I said boldly.

"Arrest me?" he said on a laugh.

And I could understand his amusement. I was immobilized at the moment.

But I was just biding my time.

His shameless pawing was more for show than anything else. I should've seen this coming. He had to re-establish his position after I threatened his manhood yesterday. I relaxed slightly, recognizing that if he really wanted to hurt me, he would've probably done so by now.

"Yeah, that's what FBI agents do when they run across someone who's broken the law."

"What are you going to arrest me for, huh, sugar? For being criminally handsome?"

He leaned in close to my cheek as he said the words, still pressing himself against me.

"I'll start with the murder of Joey Banta."

"You won't arrest me for that."

"I'm glad you're not denying culpability. Oh, I'm sorry. That's a big word isn't it?" I asked smartly. "It means thank you for admitting it."

"I'm not stupid," he argued. "And neither are you. You won't arrest me because we have a deal."

"I have a deal with Hassan, not you."

"But it's me who's here now, isn't it? What are you going to do, Agent Eames? Because I don't see you reaching for your knife this time. Maybe next time you should think about letting your fuck buddy walk you to work. Where is Agent Goren anyway?"

"Lucky for you, he's not here. I'm pretty sure he'd shoot first and ask questions later. I mean, you are presently assaulting a federal agent."

"I haven't even gotten started yet, sugar."

"I'm sure Hassan will love to find out that you tried to rough up his business partner. Keep it up, Gino. You'll find yourself wanted by the cops and the criminals."

He loosened his grip on me and slowly eased away. I turned around as he took a few more steps back.

"You don't need to tell him that I was here," he stated.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because…I'm not here on business."

"Gino," I said shaking my head. "Drop the whole Romeo act, okay? It's never going to happen."

"No, listen," he said. "All that…that was an act. I just wanted you to be afraid of me."

"Well, that's never going to happen either."

"Yeah, I get that," he mumbled. He stared at me a minute longer, and then he said, "Why did you say what you said? Yesterday, in the car."

Ah, so he _had_ been paying attention. I'd wondered about that.

"You said that I was selling out my family," he continued. "What did you mean by that?"

"Do you know who you're working for?" I asked him as I took a step closer to him.

"Yeah, do you?"

"You're a man of integrity, Gino. I don't always agree with the things you do. In fact, some of them are downright despicable. But there's a code among thieves. It's an honor system. And I know that when it comes to Alfredo Toscano, you'd lay down and die for him."

"Yeah, so?"

"So you're on the wrong side."

"Says the G-woman who's selling secrets," he retorted smartly.

"You got me there," I admitted. "But I'm just looking to make a buck. And I know you are, too, but I was under the impression that your first loyalty was to the Toscanos."

"You're trying to pit me against Hassan," he accused. "Why?"

"I'm just trying to tell you something."

"I don't go against my word. And fifty large says that I protect Hassan."

"And yet you're here," I reminded him. "Against Hassan's wishes. I have no doubt that he warned you not to mess with me."

"Yeah, okay, maybe. So maybe that means that we're working together."

"Me and you?"

"I don't want Hassan to know that I came here this morning. And you don't want him to know that you tried to turn me against him. I'd say that makes us even, don't you think?"

Great.

I was a co-conspirator with a mobster on top of being in bed with a gun runner.

"Yeah, sure," I agreed facetiously.

"So quit playing games and tell me what you know," he said insistently.

But that would be too quick. I didn't want Gino to quit working for Hassan today because then Hassan would just hire someone new. Or Gino might spread the word to the Toscanos and if Hassan caught wind of that, he'd go underground.

No, I just wanted Gino to have lingering doubts. I wanted him to wonder about Hassan's motives and his past and how that might relate to Toscano.

Because the more he focused on Hassan, the less he'd focus on me.

And it was very possible that he'd become an ally if somehow this whole thing went to hell.

"You grab me from the street, push me into the wall, _feel me up_," I said bitterly. "And now you just want me to get over it and tell you everything? I don't think so, Gino. You blew it."

I turned and walked away from him, heading for the street.

"Hey, Eames!" he called out to me.

I stopped walking and waited while he trotted to catch up. I had to give him credit for not calling me _sugar_.

And I was starting to think that the tough guy act was mostly just that. An act. Because as much as I hated to admit it, he'd had me mostly at his mercy. True, I could've said the code word and all three of my watchdogs would've rushed to my rescue, but he didn't know that. And he'd still let me go.

"I promise not to lay a hand on you again," he offered.

"Well see, that would benefit you more than me. Because I have no problem cutting off any appendage that should happen to rub up against me. You caught me off guard today, I'll give you that. But you won't get me again."

"I'm trying to reach an understanding here."

"We have one. You don't touch me. I won't kill you. In the mean time, think about what I said."

I turned and took my time walking back to the street. I didn't want him to think that I was rushing to get away from him, but in truth, my heart was pounding from the entire encounter.

Once I was out on the street and walking in the direction of the federal building, I spoke into the mike.

"Goren, you leave first just to make sure he's out of the alley. I'm sure there's no one else around or Gino wouldn't have risked coming to me on the side."

I took a few more steps and because my heart was still racing and my nerves were shot, I switched off my mike and pulled out my cell phone.

"I'm fine," I said as soon as Bobby answered his phone. And yeah, I could've said those words into the mike, but I really just wanted to hear his voice.

"You did good," he said. "You've got him second-guessing what he knows."

"It'll work to our advantage," I agreed.

We were both quiet for several seconds and then he asked, "So you're really okay? He didn't hurt you?"

"I promise. I'm fine. I'll see you at the federal building, okay?"

"Okay. I love you."

I hadn't expected him to say that. Had he thought to turn off his mike?

I panicked for all of a split second, and then I decided that I didn't care.

Maas knew. We weren't fooling him.

"I love you, too."

TBC...


	47. Chapter 47

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I knew as soon as the words left my mouth that I'd screwed up.

The mike was on my wrist on my left hand, the one I used to hold the phone.

And I hadn't turned it off before taking Alex's call. I didn't even think about it.

Which meant that Maas had heard everything.

I'd been standing just inside the door to the alley, listening as she tolerated Gino's manhandling.

"I can go out," I insisted, even as Logan held onto the door handle in an effort to keep me inside.

"Give her a minute," Maas said firmly. "She hasn't said it yet."

That was true.

She hadn't said the code word.

"He's just trying to smoke out back up," Logan reminded me. "He won't hurt her. Hassan needs her."

He was right, too, so I quit fighting Logan for access to the door and instead just listened.

And then of course in true Alex fashion, she turned the whole encounter around so that it worked to our advantage.

Gino was definitely questioning Hassan now, which meant that he might not be so quick to protect him.

So as I listened to her parting words, followed up by instructions to me on what to do next, I finally allowed myself to breathe.

And then she called.

That told me that she was more rattled than she'd let on.

Of course, Maas wouldn't know that.

Logan, either.

But I knew.

"So you're really okay?" I asked her. "He didn't hurt you?"

It was a stupid question. Of course he'd hurt her. She'd have more bruises tonight to go along with the one from yesterday.

"I promise. I'm fine. I'll see you at the federal building, okay?"

"Okay. I love you."

Logan looked at me sharply, but by that point, it was too late.

I wondered idly what Maas would do. Would he tell Moran, now that I'd been so blatant as to spout off the words over an open mike?

There was nothing I could do about it now, so I'd just have to wait and find out.

We left the alley, with me going first just to make sure that Gino had left, and then we went to the car.

We drove in silence until we finally heard Maas' voice.

"Goren, are you there?"

"Yes, sir. We're two blocks out."

"Okay, I lost you for a little while there. You and Logan are okay?"

I glanced at Logan questioningly but he just shrugged.

"Yes sir," Logan answered. "You've got Eames?"

"I'm trailing behind. She's entering the building now. No sign of any hostiles."

"Okay. We'll meet you inside," I told him.

"Oh, and Detectives," he added. "We need to get our com devices checked. I've been blind for about seven minutes. We'll take a look at them when you get here and make sure they're up to snuff."

He went silent, presumably as he went into the parking garage.

Logan looked at me again as we each turned off our mikes.

"Seven minutes?" Logan questioned.

"You think that's his way of saying he didn't hear what I said?" I asked.

"That's what it sounded like to me."

And apparently it was.

"We need to make sure that doesn't happen again," Maas said to me as he carefully looked over my mike device. "I wouldn't want anyone else…you know, someone less _seasoned_ than me…to have to deal with…radio silence. You understand what I'm saying, don't you Detective?"

I _absolutely_ understood what he was saying.

I'd definitely dodged a bullet this time.

And whatever Maas' reasons were for being accepting of my relationship with Alex, well…I didn't care. I was just grateful that he _had_ his reasons.

So after that brief conversation, Maas acted as though everything was perfectly fine.

Which it was.

The day went extremely well.

We put a GPS in the lining of Semere's coat and then we set him free. We weren't too concerned about him slipping away.

Hassan wanted the weapons. He'd find Semere.

We managed to get in a couple of hours of work at 1PP. Alex worked in her office while Logan and I pitched in on the Schuler case.

It was a welcome change after drowning in the Hassan case for so many days, and it also gave me the opportunity to evaluate Yuille.

Despite our shaky start, I decided that I liked him.

"Misty Hahn is being uncooperative," Wyatt told us.

"Oh, so you found her," Logan said. "And she wouldn't talk? Do you think she's in on it?"

"She swears she met him on the island, gave him the hummer and then went on her way. She never saw anyone else, and no one asked her to take him out there."

"Had she met him there before?"

"She says no," Yuille said. "But we're pretty sure she's lying."

"So you think…what?" I asked them.

"She regularly serviced him and someone knew the routine."

"But then why would she lie?"

"We think someone approached her, maybe offered her a few bucks to make sure he was out there at a specific date and time," Yuille explained.

It was exactly what Logan and I thought, too, but we let them reach the conclusion on their own.

"You should bring Misty back in," Logan said.

"What makes you think she'll talk in a second go-round?" Wyatt asked.

"Threaten to put a tail on her," I said, knowing that's where Logan was headed.

He nodded and picked up the thread.

"If she had a judge as a client, then more than likely there are other important people in her little black book. A police escort will seriously cramp her ability to make a living."

We finished helping them plan a strategy for Misty Hahn and then got up to go find Alex.

"Um…Goren," Yuille began. "Thanks for helping us out. You, too, Logan."

"No problem," I answered, although I was pretty sure his gratitude was for more than just today.

And he was lucky that I hadn't killed him during that first week or so.

"I mean it. I know we started off badly and I take full responsibility for that. I appreciate you both giving me a second chance."

"You won't get a third," Logan told him firmly.

"It won't be necessary," Yuille replied.

He shook our hands and then Logan and I went to find Alex.

"That was big of him," Logan commented when we left the room. "He could've just let it go."

"Uh huh," I agreed. "Alex said she thought he was a nice guy. In fact, she was irritated with herself for misjudging him, but it looks like maybe she didn't."

"Yeah, well women can suck you in sometimes, that's for sure. They can make you crazy."

"Are you speaking from experience, Logan?" I joked.

"What do you think?" he answered with a wry grin. "It's only recently that I got smart enough to find someone like Liz."

"Yeah, about her…"

"I'm not talking about my love life."

"So it _is_ love life," I stated. "Your choice of wording was intentional."

"Well, it is on my part. Whether or not she agrees remains to be seen."

"She didn't…"

"Are we talking about our personal lives or are we working?" he interrupted.

"We usually do both," I reminded him.

He didn't reply, but instead led the way to Alex's office. We could see that she was on the phone, so we waited outside of the door.

"So, is it just me or does it feel a whole lot better working in this building than at the Bureau?" Logan remarked. "Everyone over there seems so…underhanded."

"It's not just you."

I couldn't wait to get back here on a permanent basis. I'd never considered the possibility that we'd be back at the Bureau after only a couple of weeks on the job.

_But Hassan was worth it,_ I reminded myself.

Catching him would be well worth the annoyance of dealing with the deception of the FBI.

Alex finished her call and then came out of her office.

"Are Yuille and Wyatt still in the conference room?"

"Yeah. They're going to pick up Misty and take another run. Why?"

"Another vic," she said. "Give me one more minute."

She went down the hall and poked her head in the conference room, and then she joined us at the elevator and the three of us went back to the federal building.

It was a little before three when we got back and an hour after that, Hassan called Alex's drop phone.

Of course we recorded the entire conversation, so when she finished, we all sat in the conference room and listened.

"_You held up your end of the bargain_," Hassan said, sounding somewhat surprised. "_I've already spoken with Semere."_

"_Did you think that I wouldn't stick to the deal?"_

"_I'm not sure. You had my money. You could've run."_

"_Life on the run is not my style," _she replied. _"I'm perfectly happy here in New York. I'm not running anywhere."_

"_Good. Because I need something from you."_

"_I had a feeling."_

"_Are you able to speak freely?"_

"_I wouldn't have answered if I couldn't. What do you want?"_

"_I want the name of your plant."_

"_I already said no. Don't ask me again."_

"_Why do you care so much about him?"_

"_Why do you?"_

"_I already told you. I don't like being made to look like a fool."_

"_And I don't like setting up my colleagues to be murdered, so it looks like we're at an impasse."_

There was silence for a moment and then Hassan used a different approach.

"_What do the feds know about Semere's movements since he was released?"_

"_Nothing. It was an unconditional release. The paper work linking him to the truck load of weapons has disappeared. There's no tangible evidence against him."_

"_There are no agents following him?"_

"_No."_

"_And there are no agents following me?"_

"_No. You know that. Until yesterday, no one in this building knew where you were."_

"_And now?"_

"_And now I'm the only one who knows and even my knowledge is limited."_

"_How so?"_

"_I only know you're in New York. I have no idea where."_

"_Tomorrow night,"_ he said suddenly. _"Ten o'clock at the shipyard on Liberty. There's an old marina storage building at the end of the road."_

"_I don't need to know the details,"_ she replied smoothly.

She did an excellent job of keeping her voice calm even though she was obtaining the exact information we'd been waiting for.

"_I need intelligence. I want to make sure this isn't another set up."_

"_I can give you that,"_ she assured him. "_I'm monitoring the activity on your file. If anyone accesses your data in the system, I'll know about it."_

"_And I want you to be there with me."_

"_That's not part of our deal."_

_"It's not negotiable."_

_"But there's no reason for me to be there."_

"_If there's no pending FBI bust, then there's no reason for you _not_ to be there. I want you to assume some of the risk. And with one of their own standing next to me, they won't likely come in shooting, will they?"_

"_I've already assured you that they won't be coming in at all."_

"_Then you won't mind coming."_

He hung up on that statement and as the tape went quiet, we all sat around the table looking at each other.

"It really doesn't change anything," Alex said, being the first to speak up. "I was going to be there anyway. Now I'll just be standing in a different spot."

"Right," I said. "Like he said, you'll be standing next to him. _In the line of fire_."

"This is last week all over again," Logan said as he shook his head. "I don't like it. He's got something up his sleeve."

"He's just not taking any chances," Maas spoke up. "You can't blame him."

"Look, it works like this. I'll meet him there. He'll make the buy. We'll make the arrest. The three of you will be there as back up. He'll have Gino and Dorsey."

"And Semere," I added.

"Right. So that's four on four. Since when are we not okay with those odds? And I'm sorry for speaking ill of the dead, but this time we won't have Banta there to screw it up."

She had a point.

And we had a job to do.

This was what we'd been waiting for.

This was the end game.

TBC...


	48. Chapter 48

**Liz POV**

* * *

"It's the same shade, gentlemen."

It was late on Friday afternoon and I'd recently come back from a run to Rainey Park to pick up the latest unfortunate soul to fall victim to a killer.

The 3-8 had worked the scene, a couple of green detectives who were more concerned with flashing their badges than actually looking for evidence.

I told myself that _that_ was why I wished it was a Major Case.

Because surely it had nothing to do with one Major Case detective in particular.

And of course, I knew that Mike wasn't in the rotation right now, so it was a moot point, but still…

So I'd done my preliminary exam on the CPA from Newark, and then I took the body back to my morgue.

As soon as I began to undress the victim, I made a discovery that had me pulling off my gloves and picking up my phone.

"Captain Eames."

"Captain, it's Rodgers," I began. "I've got one down here that I think you might like to take over."

"What is it?"

"CPA found in Rainey Park. The 3-8 worked it, and badly I must say, but now that I've got the body on my table, I found something that might tie him into the Schuler murder."

"An accountant doesn't really fall into line with a judge," she answered. "What've you got?"

"Lipstick on the BVD's."

She sighed heavily before responding. I knew she'd been inundated with work lately, not to mention the added stress of being dangled beneath the nose of a guy like Hassan.

"Of course, if you want me to complete the full autopsy before you make the decision, I can call you back…"

"No," she interrupted. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm on my way out of the office now and I'd rather Moran not get involved. Something tells me that as much as he preaches diplomacy, he's lacking in it himself."

I chuckled at her description of the chief, since it was dead-on.

"I'll make the call to the 3-8," she continued. "How long before you finish the exam?"

"I should have everything in a couple of hours."

"Okay. Wyatt and Yuille are working the Schuler case now, so I'll tell them to come see you in two hours."

"That works for me," I agreed. "So you three are heading for the…"

"Uh huh. We hope to finish at a decent hour. Are you going to be at the…"

"That's the plan."

We were both quiet for a minute and it almost felt awkward, as though we weren't sure how to deal with business in the middle of our new friendship. Or maybe the other way around, I'm not sure.

"I was thinking that maybe we should have lunch sometime," she said suddenly. "After this other thing wraps up."

"I'd like that."

"Good. Because you know, I think a lot of Logan," she said carefully.

"So do I," I promised.

"It's not that I'm trying to interfere," she explained. "What you do on your time isn't any of my business, but…I'm sorry. Now probably isn't the time, is it? I'll save this for when we get together."

"I've got another minute," I offered, curious as to what she wanted to say. "Say what's on your mind."

"I'm just worried about him. When the two of you started seeing each other, he insisted that it was casual, but now it's obvious that he's changed his mind about that and if you haven't then that's your choice, but I hope you'll be honest with him so that he doesn't get hurt."

If it was anyone else trying to stick their nose into our relationship, it might have ticked me off.

No, it _would've_ ticked me off.

But I wasn't offended that she was looking out for him.

In fact, I thought it was pretty sweet. He'd obviously earned her respect and affection.

And he had no family, so I had no problem with Eames filling the role of big sister.

"It's not casual," I assured her. "He and I are on the same page."

"Okay. And I'm sorry if that was out of line. I just…like I said. I worry. He's not the callous womanizer that his reputation might suggest."

"So I've learned. And I don't mind you standing up for him. But that's all I'm going to tell you about my feelings for him. You shouldn't get to know before he does."

"Fair enough. Well, Bobby and Logan are lurking outside of my door right now, so I'd better go. I'll see you tonight."

So I'd hung up with her and got busy on the autopsy of Christian Babcock.

Despite the task at hand, I couldn't seem to keep from smiling.

When was the last time I'd been this happy?

And it was all because of Mike.

I don't mean to say that I was miserable or somehow incomplete without him.

I mean, I've been content with my life. If he'd never come into it, I would've been okay. I enjoy my career, and I have a few friends, and I'm satisfied with the way that my life has gone.

But with him, my life is so much better.

_I love you_, he'd said to me last night.

And then he'd immediately shushed me from giving any response.

"_Sit on it for awhile_," he'd insisted. "_I don't want you to feel any pressure. I just wanted you to know how I feel_."

I'd started to tell him anyway, but then I held back.

It would mean more if I didn't just parrot the words back to him.

Especially this first time.

I wanted him to know that I _had_ thought about it and that I wanted to say the words at some time other than directly after him saying them to me.

And that some time was definitely going to be tonight. The fact that Eames had asked me about our relationship suggested to me that maybe he was off today.

Was he worried that I didn't return the sentiment?

Of course he was.

For all of his charm and intelligence and good-looks, he was still a little light in the self-worth department. A by-product of his childhood would be my guess, although his adult relationships had probably only perpetuated that feeling.

"Doctor Rodgers?"

The arrival of Wyatt and Yuille pulled me from my introspection.

Fortunately for me, I was able to multi-task, so despite having spent most of the last couple of hours thinking about Mike, I was still nearly done with the autopsy.

So I mentioned to them the shade of the lipstick.

And I have to admit, I was less congenial than usual.

Not that anyone would ever call me friendly, but the appearance of Detective Yuille made me bristle.

"The captain said you found it on the victim's underwear," Wyatt stated as he came closer to the body.

"That's right. It lined up with the fly," I answered as I continued to stare at Yuille.

It wasn't like me to get involved in squad room politics, but I'd heard enough about Yuille's sabotage campaign to make me dislike him.

And maybe Eames had forgiven him but for me, the jury was still out.

"We got the file from the 3-8," Yuille began. "Although I'm not sure if you can call one piece of paper a file."

"That depends on its content," I replied shortly.

"It states _DB is ID'd as Christian Babcock of Newark. He's a CPA. ME guessed COD as BFT. TOD is TBD_."

He finished reading and looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"No witness statements, no crime scene notes…nothing. This doesn't even state where the body was found," he continued.

"Well then, I suppose you're right. It sounds to me like you two have your work cut out for you."

I pulled off my gloves and went over to the side table so that I could pick up my notes.

"Run a copy of this," I told Wyatt. "You can put that in with the so-called file. And Campos was one of the CSU techs so you should be able to get some good information from him. He's one of the best."

"Thank you," Wyatt said as he took the paper from my hand. He left the room so that he could run the requested copy, and I picked up my pen to jot down a few more notes about the current exam.

"So, I'm guessing that BFT is blunt force trauma?" Yuille asked me.

"Of course," I responded, although even I didn't use the acronym. COD's should always be written out.

"And you're sticking with that? The note said it was an initial guess. I know that sometimes..."

"It's blunt force trauma," I interrupted crisply.

"Were you able to determine the time of death?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"Ten a.m.," I replied as I continued writing.

"Um…have I offended you somehow?" he asked carefully. I finally looked up at him and found him staring at me.

"Why do you ask?"

"It just seems like maybe…I don't know," he said uncertainly. I kept staring at him and he began to nod slowly. "You're a friend of Captain Eames, aren't you?"

"Good guess or just a guilty conscience?"

"Both. I've been apologizing to people for a week straight. It seems she has a lot of friends," he said on a self-conscious laugh.

"It's not about friendship. It's about respect."

"You're exactly right," he agreed quickly.

"And you might not have to work with me on a regular basis, but trust me…you want the ME's office on your side."

I was attempting to push him enough to get him to fight back. If he was insincere, then he wouldn't stand there and take it while I talked down to him.

But he took it.

"I just talked to Goren and Logan a little while ago. They've been out a lot lately, so I hadn't been able to properly apologize to them yet. I thought after I spoke with them that I'd hit everyone in the department, but I didn't think about how much the word might have gotten around."

"Squad room gossip? It's everywhere," I said, finally deciding to cut him some slack. "And I did hear that you tackled a frog-wielding killer in an effort to protect her, so I suppose you must have some redeeming qualities."

"Thank you," he replied with just the right amount of sarcasm.

It didn't escape my notice that I was doing the same thing to him that Eames had done earlier to me. Warning away others in an effort to keep a friend from being hurt.

"The copier's jammed," Wyatt said in annoyance as he came back into the room. "I'm sorry, Doc, but it sucked in your notes and I can't get them back out."

He was flustered and his tie was askew as though he'd been manhandling the copier, so I took pity on him.

"It's all in my head. Give me a few minutes and I'll write it down for you again."

I rewrote the notes that I'd taken at the crime scene and added them to what I'd learned so far from the autopsy.

The tox report wasn't back yet, although I expected it to be clean.

At least I hoped so, considering he'd been killed at ten o'clock in the morning. Although, he'd also gotten the urge to get his knob polished at that time of day, too, so it was hard to say for sure.

"This lipstick," I commented as I continued to write. "I'm having a chemical analysis run on it to definitively confirm that it matches up to what I found on the judge, but I'm sure it's the same. You have the woman who belongs to the lipstick?"

"She's denying involvement of any kind. She's got a high-profile client list, though, so I'm not sure how this guy fits."

"Or why she'd want him dead," Wyatt added.

"Why does anyone want anyone dead?" I mused as I got up from the stool. I handed off the paper to Yuille.

"Money…jealousy…power…" he began.

"That was a rhetorical question, Detective," I said with a smirk. "The why is your job. I just figure out the how. In this case, it was definitely a whack to the back of the head. Although with the judge, it only took one. This time it was two. And now that I think about it…"

I trailed off and went back to the body, which was lying prone on the table. I looked at the damaged skull and then re-measured the length of the victim.

"Initially I guessed that the killer was approximately six-four or six-five."

"And this one?"

"This victim is only five-nine. The angle of the blow…I don't know. I'd say the killer is about the same height."

"So it's not the same killer."

"Maybe not, but the victims both have your hooker in common."

"Maybe it's a team," Wyatt suggested to Yuille.

They debated that theory for a few minutes and then I sent them on their way, promising to email my final report on Mr. Babcock.

Shortly after they left, I got a text from Mike.

_**Dinner at Pete's before we go to the hotel. Can you make it?**_

I hadn't heard from him all day, which told me that he thought I had some serious thinking to do so he was leaving me alone to do it.

I appreciated the gesture, but it was completely unnecessary.

_**Try to stop me.**_

TBC...


	49. Chapter 49

**Maas POV**

* * *

I almost declined the invitation.

In fact, I did say no.

But then Eames asked me if I was sure, and Logan said _come on, Cap_, so then I finally agreed to go along.

And honestly, I have no idea why they invited me. Surely they all valued their time away from prying eyes.

Or at least, Goren and Eames must.

I thought about them as I drove in a roundabout route to Pete's.

I'd nearly choked this morning when I heard Goren tell Eames that he loved her.

Of course, I _knew_.

Or at least, I _thought_ I knew.

They did such a good job of hiding it most of the time that, in between minor slips, I could almost convince myself that I was imagining things.

But as good as they were, there _were_ slips.

And not just big ones like his today.

From the first day that I met them, I knew they had some kind of thing.

And I'd liked them instantly.

They were alive.

The whole department had lost their captain, and yet those two were the ones trying to _do_ something about it.

They weren't just passengers in life and I admired them for that.

Not only that, but they also had this tangible connection.

After spending only a few minutes with them, conducting an emotionally-charged conversation about the investigation into Ross' murder, I automatically assumed they were a couple.

And it seemed so blatantly obvious that I opened my mouth to Moran.

_"What?"_ he'd shouted. _"Goren and Eames? I don't need this right now, Stanley. Please tell me you're kidding."_

_"What do you think?"_ I'd retorted, quickly back-pedaling.

The last thing I wanted to do was get them into trouble. I'd just assumed that Moran knew and was wisely overlooking it.

_"Of course I'm kidding,"_ I added vehemently. And then because I'd read Goren's file and I thought maybe Moran disliked him, I said, _"There's no way Eames would be with a guy like Goren."_

I thought that would ease his mind, but instead, I misjudged the situation yet again.

I couldn't get a read on Moran and his response was completely unexpected.

_"There's no way Eames would break the rules like that_," he countered. "_Goren's an okay guy, but she's on her way up in this department. Getting busted having an inter-departmental affair would stall her rise to the top."_

"_Exactly,"_ I'd agreed smoothly. _"That's what I meant."_

And then I'd had to re-evaluate.

The political game normally comes easy for me, but Moran didn't seem to fit into any of the molds.

I couldn't decide if he knew and didn't want me to tell him so that he could maintain deniability, or if he honestly didn't know.

Either seemed like a viable possibility.

Because I knew that Moran and Goren had butted heads over the years. I'd heard rumors of conflict.

But as much as I sometimes disagreed with his methods, I had to admit that Moran did have a knack for recognizing potential.

Goren had potential in spades.

So did Eames.

Which meant that Moran was going to bury his head to anything that might force him to stifle that potential.

And then, after working with the two of them for a couple more days, I began to wonder if maybe I was just completely wrong.

Maybe there was no reason for Moran to bury his head at all.

That was the third possibility that I hadn't considered.

Maybe there _was_ no relationship.

They were so professional and committed to finding the answers and never once acted inappropriately.

I mean, sure, they stared at each other a lot. They finished each other's sentences.

But they'd been partners for a decade. That was akin to a marriage.

A good one, one that worked. Not one like mine.

So maybe it was nothing more than that.

_"Why do you care so much?"_ my wife asked me once when I was pondering their relationship out loud one night during dinner.

Good question.

I knew why, but I wasn't about to discuss it with her.

She hadn't really been suggesting that I answer her anyway.

She just wanted me to shut up about them.

_"I have no idea,"_ I told her, and then I tried to force it from my mind.

A few days later, I called Goren into my office to discuss going undercover with the FBI in order to smoke out the leak.

And what was his response?

He wanted Eames involved.

That sparked my imagination again and over the course of the next several months, I continued to ride the fence.

And I don't mean that I thought about it constantly.

I do have a life.

But when I was around them, it usually came to mind. I could probably chalk it up to my curious nature. I mean, I'm a detective for a reason. I have an inquisitive mind and when presented with a puzzle, I tend to obsess.

Goren and Eames were a puzzle to me, so I will admit to some obsession.

Four months into the FBI sting, Moran asked me about them.

And by ask, I mean in the personal sense.

_"They're not crossing the line, are they?"_

_"How should I know?"_ I asked him, although by this point I thought I _did_ know.

_"Stanley…"_

_"Look, they're under extreme stress, they're forced to work together and live together, not to mention that they're under constant surveillance…I think it's a miracle that they haven't killed each other."_

_"I'm not sure that I like this situation,"_ Moran replied thoughtfully. _"Lieutenant Eames is an attractive woman and Detective Goren is…well, he's a man. We're asking for trouble leaving the two of them together."_

_"Trouble?"_ I questioned, barely able to contain my smile.

_"You know what I'm saying."_

_"No, sir, I don't think I do. They're both professionals and they're trying to do a job. And no offense, but I can't imagine a scenario where you would ever be able to convince Eames to call it quits."_

_"But what if they're…I mean, I want them back here. In the same department."_

_"I'm glad to hear that, since that's what we promised."_

_"I'm taking the meeting with them today. I want to evaluate things for myself."_

_"There's no need. If you want them back, then bring them back. The only thing pertinent is how well they do the job."_

He'd stared at me for several long minutes and then still insisted on taking the meeting.

I had no idea what was going through his head, but when he came back from the meeting, he started speculating about possibly sending Goren back to Narcotics.

_"Why on earth would you do that?"_ I asked him in annoyance.

_"I can't let her be his boss. And Ross wanted her there…I promised him."_

_"And you promised _them_ that they'd both come back to Major Case."_

_"How can I, with the way things are?"_

I walked away from that discussion.

I didn't want my frustration with him to override my good sense.

But for some reason, I felt like I had to do _something_. I was the one who had planted the seed in Moran's mind by asking him about them during my first week at 1PP.

I felt somewhat responsible.

So two weeks later, while in an update session with Moran, I let it accidentally slip that Eames had broken surveillance.

To go on a date.

_"What kind of a date?"_ Moran asked me suspiciously.

_"I don't know. A date. She met a man. They went to dinner. I didn't stick around to witness the entire event."_

_"She had a date,"_ he repeated dubiously.

"_That's right."_

_"With someone other than Goren."_

_"She's not dating Goren,"_ I said firmly. _"They're like…brother and sister."_

_"Who was it?"_

_"The date? I have no idea. And sir, I have to say that I think we've spent entirely too much time speculating on their personal lives. These detectives have given up virtually everything in order to conduct an extremely dangerous investigation, all in the name of justice. I don't see how anything else is relevant."_

_"Point taken,"_ he answered slowly. And then he picked up a file and opened it up. _"Okay, so when Eames comes back, we'll move Callas…do we need to shift any detectives to make room for Goren?"_

And that was all that was said about that.

I'd lied to my boss, something I rarely ever did, in an effort to help out two people whom I barely knew.

And I'm not sure exactly when I appointed myself as their guardian angel, but I'd repeatedly protected them over the past year and I had no plan to stop any time soon.

Even with that big slip today.

I'd been able to hear their entire conversation, since his mike hand was the one holding the phone. Her words were quieter, of course, but I could hear them nonetheless.

And I could definitely hear him.

_I love you_, he'd said, and his voice was filled with concern.

I didn't have to imagine how it felt to have the woman you loved on the other end of the com device.

I knew firsthand.

So even though I'd been surprised that Goren had forgotten to turn off his mike, I wasn't too surprised that he'd said the words.

And I have no doubt that Eames considered the possibility of the open mike, and yet she'd still replied without hesitation.

She wouldn't leave him on that island alone.

I parked my car near the hole-in-the-wall where my detectives apparently liked to hang out.

I couldn't blame them for their choice. It would be highly unlikely that anyone would accidentally stumble upon them in a place like this.

"I thought maybe you'd changed your mind," Eames said when I got to their table. "Have a seat. We ordered you a drink."

"It's a good thing I showed up then."

"We wouldn't have let it go to waste," Logan assured me.

He looked like he was getting ready to say something else, but then his gaze shifted to just over my shoulder. He smiled and got up from the table.

"I'll be right back," he said distractedly.

I turned around and watched as he met Dr. Rodgers near the front door and together the two of them went outside.

"Are those two…" I questioned, turning back to look at Goren and Eames.

I hadn't considered it, even though she'd been here the other night. I'd bought the excuse that she was here for her professional opinion.

"I have no idea," Goren replied innocently. "Eames?"

"I don't know either," she answered. She held my gaze as she picked up her drink and took a sip. "Captain, about earlier today…"

"Goren and I already discussed it," I said quickly. "We'll make sure that there aren't any more com device malfunctions."

"We appreciate that," she replied carefully. She continued to watch me and for some reason, I found myself holding my breath. "We don't want to put you in a difficult position."

"You haven't," I assured her.

I finally pulled my eyes away from hers and instead settled my gaze onto Goren.

That wasn't any better.

His was just as intense, just as all-seeing as hers.

I realized that the two of them, although sitting on the same side of the table, had quite a bit of space between them. And they seemed tense, as though they were waiting for me to outline the cost of my silence.

"As far as I'm concerned," I began carefully. "What you do outside of 1PP isn't anyone's business. I've enjoyed working with the two of you, and I haven't run across a finer pair of detectives in all my time in law enforcement. It would be a disservice to the NYPD if anyone or anything disrupted your service in Major Case."

"Thank you, Captain," Eames said immediately.

"Besides, that no-fraternization rule should be a suggestion, not a mandate," I continued. "It should be a diversion to casual relationships which might then lead to ugly break-ups. It shouldn't be a blanket denial. It's something I'm working on getting changed."

"Really?" Goren asked in surprise. "What does the chief think about that, Captain?"

"He's opposed at the moment, but I don't give up easily," I said with a smile. "And by the way, when we're off the clock, you call me Stanley."

They both nodded in agreement, but the mood was still edgy and slightly uncomfortable.

"I initially declined your offer tonight because I didn't want to shorten the amount of time you had together," I added. "You've both been working a lot and downtime shouldn't be hampered by hanging out with the brass. So, either you two are going to relax and be yourselves and forget that I'm with the department, or I'm going to finish this drink and be on my way."

I picked up my glass and drained most of the liquid as the two of them stared at each other.

That, right there, was what had clued me into them in the first place.

They just _looked_.

And they continued looking while I finished off my drink and set down my glass. I pulled out my wallet with the intention of paying for my drink and heading on my way.

I didn't blame them for being uncomfortable around me.

"No," Eames spoke up. "Stay."

As she said the words, she moved a little closer to Goren. His arm had been on the back of the booth, but as she slid towards him, he dropped it onto her shoulders.

"Okay," I agreed. I looked towards the door and asked, "Is Logan coming back, or did he and the doc ditch us?"

"They're coming back," Goren said on a chuckle. "I think they had something to discuss in private first."

So we ordered another round. A few minutes later, Logan and Rodgers came back and neither of them seemed able to stop smiling.

I wasn't sure why Goren and Eames denied knowledge of a relationship between the two of them because they clearly weren't trying to hide it now.

Or maybe they'd just taken a cue from Goren and Eames, I don't know. But by the time we ordered dinner, I was really glad I'd come.

"You should've invited your wife," Eames told me.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "That would've been a very bad idea."

"Why?"

"She hates cops."

Everyone looked at me quizzically and I started to brush them off, but then I didn't.

Here they were, opening up to me and accepting me into their personal lives.

The least I could do was share some of myself as well.

"Do you want the abridged version?" I asked wryly.

"Hell, I'm not planning on going back to the hotel any time soon," Logan answered. "Lay it all on us."

So I told them about my start in law enforcement, which was with the FBI. I'd trained in the academy under Agent Casteel.

"But he doesn't like you," Goren pointed out. "What did you do?"

"He liked me just fine until I left the FBI," I answered. "Mostly, anyway. But he took it as a personal insult that I defected to the NYPD."

"Ah, so you're at the root of his dislike for the department," Eames remarked.

"Maybe," I agreed.

"Why did you leave?" Rodgers asked me.

"My partner," I began slowly. This was the overly personal part of the story. This was the part that I hadn't shared with anyone. "She was…um…"

"Wait, you were in love with your partner?" Logan asked loudly.

"Mike," Rodgers admonished, chucking him with her elbow. But then she looked at me and said, "So were you?"

I couldn't help but laugh. These guys were so easy to talk to and maybe I was just desperate for normal conversation, I don't know, but I suddenly found it surprisingly easy to open up.

"Yeah, I was," I admitted.

"But the Bureau is okay with that kind of thing," Goren said.

"_Now_," I told him. "This was almost thirty years ago. Back then, they weren't so okay."

"So you're the reason for the open policy on fraternization. Captain, I had no idea you were such a pioneer," Eames joked.

"Stanley," I corrected.

"Wait, so your wife hates cops just because she's a fed?" Goren questioned.

"My wife isn't a fed. I didn't end up marrying my partner."

"But you left the Bureau in order to maintain your relationship."

"That's right. We didn't get caught until almost five years after it started. Our SAC said that we either had to end it or one of us had to go."

"So you left," Goren stated.

"I did. I had an offer to join the department so it seemed like the right thing to do. Three years later, my former partner married Casteel. So there you go, Eames. _He's_ the pioneer for inter-departmental relationships in the Bureau, not me."

"Ouch," Logan said, shaking his head.

"Uh huh," I agreed. And then since I was already halfway in, I confessed the rest. Or most of it anyway. "Except that I hadn't completely ended it with her."

"So _that's_ why Casteel hates you so much. You were sleeping with his wife. Shame on you, Stanley," Eames teased, and I appreciated her keeping the moment light.

"She was mine before she was his," I insisted with a grin.

I wasn't going to feel bad about it.

And I didn't felt bad any of the dozens of times I've been with her in the past twenty years either.

"Okay, I've got to ask," Logan said. "How'd you end up with a woman who hates cops?"

"A couple of years later, my partner in the department was killed. He left behind a wife and two kids. She needed someone. And the kids needed a father. So it's not so much that she flat out hates cops. She's just still in mourning."

"Yeah, but it's been…"

"Eighteen years. And the kids are grown and out of the house, so she's about ready to send me packing, too. She never got over his death."

Silence fell onto the table and I self-consciously picked up my drink.

"I'm sorry," Goren said quietly.

"Yeah, well, it's life, right? Sometimes it kicks you in the ass."

"You gave up a lot to be a father to those kids. That's commendable," Rodgers remarked.

"Don't paint me as any kind of saint, Rodgers. I've committed my share of sins. Still do from time to time."

"Don't we all," Logan mused.

"Still do…" Goren said thoughtfully, catching my gaze. "So you and your old partner…"

The man didn't miss much.

Ever.

"Yeah?" I asked challengingly.

I wasn't sure if I was ready to come clean about _everything_.

"It's a shame you couldn't just be with her to begin with," he ended up saying.

I was pretty sure that he could read my mind and that he knew damn well I was still seeing her.

But I was also sure he wasn't going to say it out loud.

We'd reached an understanding and in the process, I'd earned his trust.

Or maybe I'd already had it, but now it was by choice instead of by circumstance.

I nodded at him and tossed back the last of my drink.

"Exactly."

TBC...


	50. Chapter 50

**Logan POV**

* * *

It's not like I didn't have enough work to keep my mind occupied.

I definitely did.

But I still couldn't stop thinking about Liz.

I worried all day that I'd pushed it too far.

She didn't act like it at the time, but she was a pro at keeping her feelings in check. And she wasn't into drama so it's not like I expected her to just get up and walk out after my declaration.

No, the test would be whether or not she came back tonight.

Because she didn't have to.

She had her own place, and I was still stuck in that damn hotel, and she could come up with any number of valid excuses to avoid me if she was freaked out by what I'd said.

So after I made it through the bulk of the day and for the most part managed to be productive, I sent her a text and then held my breath.

_**Dinner at Pete's before we go to the hotel. Can you make it?**_

I was annoyed with myself for having gotten to this point.

The point at which my happiness hinged on her response.

I mean, how sad was that?

Of course, if she blew me off, I'd recover.

I wouldn't like it.

In fact, I wouldn't like it one damn bit and the recovery would be slow and painful, but I _would_ recover.

She would just be one more in a long line of women who were repulsed by the thought of entering into some kind of commitment with me.

But the thing was that I didn't want her to be just one _more_…I wanted her to be _the_ one.

So thirty endless seconds later when my phone buzzed with her reply, I let out a sigh of relief as I read the words.

_**Try to stop me.**_

"Good news?" Eames asked me.

We'd just left the federal building, heading for Pete's. We'd managed to strong-arm Maas into joining us, but he'd said that he would meet us there, so it was just the three of us in the car.

"You could say that," I answered as I reread the words. "Maybe. So tell me again why we wanted Maas here tonight?"

"We have to say something," Eames responded. She pulled to a stop at a red light and looked over at Goren. "We can't just pretend it never happened."

He nodded his head and added, "Yeah, after this morning…"

"He already knew anyway," she told him, reaching out to put her hand on his cheek. "And if he wanted to tell Moran, he would have by now."

She clearly wasn't upset with him for his mistake and I was glad to see that.

He'd been pretty worried about her.

If she'd been mad, I might have had to step in and remind her just how difficult it was to be on the other side.

He'd been thinking of her first, before anything else.

And really, wasn't that how it was supposed to be?

I was pretty sure that I trusted Maas to keep his mouth shut about them, but even if he told Moran, if the chief had any sense in his head, he wouldn't care about their relationship.

Twenty minutes later, we went into Pete's and I sat down across from Goren and Eames. Liz hadn't arrived yet, but I ordered a drink for her anyway.

"Get Maas something, too," Eames said. "What did he drink the other night?"

"Crown and Seven," Goren answered immediately.

"Do you ever miss a detail?" I asked him after the waitress left.

"I tracked down your secret affair from the smell of a specific brand of cigarettes," he said, biting back a grin. "What do you think?"

"Please," Eames said, bumping into him with her shoulder. "You missed the fact that I was in love with you _forever_."

"That's different," he argued, but he was smiling fully now. He leaned closer to her, like he was getting ready to kiss her, and that's when Maas walked in the front door.

"Arm's length, boys and girls," I said quietly. "The boss is in the house."

The two of them eased apart so that there was nearly two feet between them by the time Maas got to our table.

"I thought maybe you'd changed your mind," Eames said to him. "Have a seat. We ordered you a drink."

"It's a good thing I showed up then."

"We wouldn't have let it go to waste," I said, but then the door opened again and there was Liz.

All thoughts of Maas and alcohol completely left me.

I couldn't help but smile even though I was suddenly filled with nerves. I got up from the table and mumbled something that might have sounded like _I'll be right back,_ but my mind was elsewhere.

Had she come here to break it off with me?

Liz was a very straight-forward person. She wouldn't use cowardly avoidance.

She'd take the bull by the horns.

So was that why she seemed so intent on meeting me here?

To sever the relationship in one fell swoop now that I'd been so naïve as to think that she could ever love me back?

Maybe I shouldn't have pushed it.

Maybe I should've just left things like they were.

Maybe it wasn't too late to take it back so that she'd want to stay.

I managed to send myself into a complete panic in the five seconds that it took me to cross the room.

"Let's go outside for just a minute," I suggested, taking her by the elbow. She quickly turned and led the way outside, seemingly grateful for my suggestion.

"Look, Liz…I…" I began, but the bumbling apology that I'd hastily prepared was cut off when she grabbed onto my shirt and kissed me.

She held onto me as I stumbled backwards a step, completely taken off guard by her display of affection. But my awkwardness only lasted a second, and then I gripped her hips with my hands and pulled her closer to me as I finally managed to return the kiss.

It went on for several minutes, and then she slowly pulled away.

"You came up with this whole scenario where I was going to call it quits, didn't you?" she asked knowingly. She still held onto the front of my shirt, keeping me right in front of her.

"I didn't…I mean, I wasn't…maybe, yes," I admitted at last. "I'm not…it's just that…I'm not…"

"Mike," she interrupted. "Any time you want to stop telling me all the things that you aren't, maybe I could fill you in on all of the things that you are."

She let go of my shirt and instead ran one hand over my cheek. I hadn't shaved since early this morning and quite a bit of stubble had managed to sprout during the course of the day, but the touch of her hand still felt great.

I thought back to earlier when Eames had done the same thing to Goren when we were in the car.

It was a gesture of love or at the very least, deep caring.

I closed my eyes and leaned into her touch, putting my hand over top of hers.

"I think we've established that sometimes I overthink things," I told her.

"That's an understatement," she said on a quiet laugh.

"So we're okay?" I asked carefully, opening my eyes so that I could see her face as she answered my all-important question.

Because I really needed for us to be okay.

"Of course we are. Did you honestly think you'd scare me away?"

"There's no precedent in my life for any other reaction."

Her gaze softened and she leaned in to kiss me again. This one was slower and infused with emotion rather than need.

"Now there is," she said simply when she broke off the kiss. "Are you ready to go inside? I don't want the others to think that we ran off to my place for a quickie."

I barked out a laugh and shook my head.

"Now why didn't I think of that? We could've been nearly done by now," I joked.

I reached out and pulled open the door of Pete's, holding it for her to go ahead of me, but she stopped next to me.

"But then I would've just been cliché," she told me evenly.

"Cliché?"

"Saying I love you after sex. It's not nearly as romantic as saying it in the doorway of the place where we first got together, don't you think?"

I stared at her as the meaning of her words penetrated my brain.

"I love you," she said firmly. Then she smiled and added, "Overthink that all you want to."

The rest of the evening was surreal.

We went back inside and found Goren with his arm around Eames.

In front of Maas.

Obviously the air had been cleared and he was now part of the inner circle, so I didn't even attempt to hide things with Liz.

It's not like I needed to anyway, but I would have, if for no other reason than to keep things professional while Maas was around.

But then he told us about his early days in the FBI and how he'd fallen in love with his partner.

It suddenly began to make a little more sense as to why he was so willing to overlook things.

It was sad, too, to think of what he'd missed out on. He'd basically spent his last eighteen years in a loveless marriage.

I wanted to ask what had caused the woman to marry Casteel, but I figured there would be time for that later.

It was a story he could tell at his own pace.

As was typical with us, we couldn't stay away from work topics for very long.

"So did Wyatt and Yuille come to see you today?" Eames asked Liz.

"They did," she answered with a nod. "The 3-8 did a shoddy job at the scene, but I think they still have some interesting facts to go on. Other than the lipstick, I mean."

"Another guy was murdered post-hummer?" I asked her.

"Uh huh. You'd think maybe that would be a deterrent, but I don't see there being a lull in solicitation."

"Is this guy high-profile?" Goren asked.

"He's an accountant," Eames told us. "But he had the same shade of lipstick on his skivvies."

"Misty Hahn strikes again," I remarked.

"The killer was shorter this time," Liz stated. "Five-nine is my guess, so you're dealing with two different perps."

"I didn't get the vitals on Misty. Did you?" Goren asked me.

"No, I didn't."

"You think the hooker did this one?" Eames asked.

"I don't know," he answered. "But I'd like to see how tall she is."

"Let's finish up this Hassan thing and then you and Logan can help close out the Schuler / Babcock case. How about that?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," I agreed.

"Speaking of Hassan," Liz said. "What's the latest?"

The four of us filled her in on what had happened, beginning with the stunt Gino pulled this morning and ending with the phone call from Hassan.

"Do you think he smells a trap?" Liz asked.

"Maybe," Goren conceded. "Or maybe he just sees no downside to her being there."

"Well, I see a downside," Maas said as he looked at Eames. "You won't be able to wear a vest."

"I don't think Hassan's too worried about that," she replied. She seemed okay with that fact, but I noticed that Goren pulled her just a little bit closer.

I didn't blame him. I hated the idea of Eames going in there, too, so I could just imagine how he felt.

But we had a fairly solid plan. Hell, we'd had one last week until Banta had messed everything up.

But this time it was just the four of us, so there was no one I didn't trust.

Eames would meet Hassan there.

Presumably, he'd have Gino and Dorsey at his side and then Semere would join them.

We planned to have the entire warehouse wired, with audio and video.

We'd watch while they made the deal, but we weren't going to rush them.

Instead, we were going to wait.

Maas would follow Semere from the building while Goren followed Hassan.

I was assigned to follow the truck full of weapons, which probably meant Dorsey or Gino.

The other would likely still be with Hassan.

Once they left and went their separate ways, then individually we'd make the arrests. That way there was less risk of a shootout.

If Hassan insisted on taking Eames with him, then Goren would simply continue to follow until he let her go.

And he _would_ let her go.

He wouldn't risk having the evidence come out against him for Bruto's murder.

He'd just hang onto her long enough to feel sure that he was in the clear.

It was going to make for a long, harrowing night, but we all felt fairly confident that it would go according to plan.

Hassan needed the weapons before the Yemenis called foul, so unless he got spooked, he would follow through.

"If Goren has any trouble, then we ditch our targets and go with him," Maas instructed.

As if I needed him to tell me that.

"I'm with you," I said with a nod.

"And if you have any trouble," Maas continued, once again turning to Eames. "Just get the hell out of there. Don't worry about apprehending him. If it doesn't happen, then it doesn't happen. It's not worth risking your life."

"Any more than she already is," Liz pointed out worriedly.

"Guys, relax," Eames said firmly. "It's going to be fine."

TBC...


	51. Chapter 51

**Alex POV**

* * *

It wasn't fine.

Not even close.

And it was so far from what I'd expected that my mind was having trouble keeping up.

Because honestly, I'd pondered various scenarios. Every good cop does that kind of thing.

Preparedness is vital and so I worked very hard to be _very_ prepared.

In fact, Bobby and I had discussed possible outcomes long into the night.

"_Do what Maas said,"_ he'd told me quietly.

We'd come back to the hotel and then we'd thoroughly exhausted each other physically to the point where neither of us could move.

We were lying sideways across the bed on just the sheet. The rest of the covers had fallen off the foot of the bed during our hour-long session that had started in the bathroom, moved to the dresser, and then ended up here.

There was a broken lamp somewhere in between, but we'd worry about that tomorrow.

Or the next day.

For now, I was content to lay on my stomach with my cheek resting on Bobby's arm. With his other hand, he idly played with the ends of my hair.

The action was soothing and a direct contradiction to the seriousness of our discussion.

"_You mean run if it goes bad?"_

_"Absolutely."_

_"Bobby…"_

_"I mean it. I want to catch him just as much as you do, but he's been eluding us for a year. Another week or another month isn't really going to make that much difference, is it?"_

_"No,"_ I agreed. _"But I can't imagine a scenario where it goes so bad that I run."_

_"If he turns on you…if he makes you as setting him up…if he thinks you're bluffing about the evidence…"_

_"You'll be there. If any of those things happen, you'll hear him and you'll take him out_," I reminded him confidently.

"_I'm just saying…"_

_"I know_," I conceded at last.

I could understand his worry. I just didn't feel it myself.

We'd looked at this every way possible.

We had it covered.

Except we didn't.

As I stood in the storage facility, disarmed and held by the throat with my back up against the chest of Hassan, I realized how grossly we'd underestimated two of the players in this show.

Of course that realization was of little help now.

Because me, being held hostage, wasn't in the playbook.

But then again, neither was Logan getting shot.

Or Maas.

From my position, I couldn't see either of them. I'd seen Maas go down and a minute later, I'd heard Bobby call out Logan's name, but they were now all three hidden amidst the boats which lined the wall of the building.

Dorsey was dead at my feet.

Semere was face-down, possibly dead, halfway between us and the stash of boats where Bobby was taking cover with our injured counterparts.

Gino stood next to Hassan.

He had my gun in one hand and a Tec-9 in the other.

"Give it up, Goren!" Hassan called out.

"I don't think so, Hassan," Bobby answered. His voice sounded tight and strained and I felt panic rush through me at the unknown status of my friends.

"What do you think you're going to do? Single-handedly stop me from walking out of here with that shipment of weapons? That's never going to happen. Be smart, Goren, and walk away. There's no need for you to risk your life over this cheap piece of trash."

"I'm not walking away. Now let her go."

Hassan laughed and squeezed tighter, putting more pressure against my windpipe.

"Why would I let her go? I've got you outgunned and outmanned. I think I'll keep her as my reward."

"Reward for what?"

"For figuring out your game. And for beating the almighty feds. Now I've got the guns, my freedom, and your woman. I'd say it's a good day to be me."

And I had to give him that.

He'd figured us out.

But that was my fault.

I never once considered the possibility that Hassan would bug his own man.

He'd heard my conversation with Gino yesterday. He knew I'd tried to throw doubt on him.

So when I arrived, he'd reached out to shake my hand. When I grabbed the offered hand, he'd held on tight, pulling me to him.

_"Never talk to my men without my permission,"_ he'd said in a soft and yet menacing voice. Then he pulled back his jacket to show me what was underneath. He was wired with explosives. _"Now, since I can't trust you, I was forced to take an extra precaution. Hand over your weapon to Gino and then we'll finish this deal. If you are who you claim to be then everything will be fine."_

I complied, giving Gino my gun.

_"And the knife,"_ he added with a knowing grin. _"I wouldn't want you to try to cut off any of _my_ appendages."_

I gave Gino the knife, which he tucked into his jacket pocket and then Hassan pulled me back against him.

And then he'd given the order.

He'd had Dorsey and Gino open fire around the perimeter of the room, sending a hailstorm of bullets into the boats where Bobby and Logan and Maas were hiding.

I could only guess that he wanted to test Gino, to make sure he was still on his side, while at the same time luring out the back up.

And they'd had no choice but to return fire. Although considering my position, they had to be careful so as not to catch me in the crossfire.

But still, the firefight had devastating effects. Dorsey went down quickly and so did Maas, followed by Semere and Logan until at last, Gino stopped shooting.

Once he quit, the room fell silent.

"It's a good day to be you, huh, boss?" Gino repeated.

I cut my eyes over to him, trying to get a read on his state of mind.

Had he given any more thought to what I'd said to him?

"That's what I said, Gino," Hassan replied. "Now go fish the keys out of Semere's pocket. You take the truck. Get me Dorsey's keys, too. Alexandra is going to drive me out of here."

"What about Goren?"

"He's not going to do anything. Not while I've got her."

Gino took two steps forward and then stopped and turned around. He stood directly in front of us, facing me and Hassan.

"I don't think so," he said, shaking his head.

And then from nowhere, five members of the Toscano outfit walked up behind him, all equally armed to the teeth.

"What is the meaning of this?" Hassan asked loudly, squeezing me even harder.

"We know what you did," Gino said. "Now let the agent go. This isn't her fight."

"She came here of her own accord. She filled your head with some kind of nonsense that has you questioning my authority. This is definitely her fight."

"Uh uh," Gino replied, shaking his head. "We don't kill feds."

"You might not, but I do," Hassan said, tugging on me so that I had to walk backwards with him. "If you want me, you're going to have to shoot through her."

"Hassan, let her go," Bobby yelled out again.

This time he'd changed positions and was now circling around to the side. Some of Gino's men were fanning out, too.

"I'll blow us all up," he asserted. "What do I care?"

"Nobody's going to kill anybody," Bobby said. "Just let her go and then we can talk about this."

"What's there to talk about?"

"We don't want to kill you, Hassan," Gino said with a grin. "We just want to let the feds take you in. We want to see you punished for what you did. You killed Bruto."

"What? You don't know that!"

"I heard her in the car," he continued. "She commented on your ring and then all of a sudden you started talking."

See? He was the second person I underestimated. Even though I hoped my words might make him question Hassan, I never expected he'd call in for reinforcements.

"Why is that, Hassan? Huh?" Gino taunted. "What is it about that ring?"

Hassan changed tactics.

"Bruto was beating the woman I loved. What would you have done?"

"So you admit it," another man said carefully. "You killed the son of Alfredo Toscano."

"It was three years ago," he fired back. "Get over it."

"Get over it?" Gino yelled back, taking a couple of steps closer so that he was right in front of us.

In fact, he was so close that his jacket was brushing against me. He flickered his eyes briefly to mine and then settled his gaze on Hassan, all the while continuing to push against me.

Because my hands were free.

And while Gino continued to spout off obscenities and accusations at Hassan, he practically put my knife on a silver platter.

It was just a matter of sliding my hand into his pocket and grabbing hold of the weapon, which already had the blade extended.

I pulled it back out as Gino finished his rant.

He took a step back, theatrically expressing his frustration, presumably in an effort to keep Hassan's attention, and then he suddenly came to a stop.

He tossed my gun onto the floor, kicking it over near the side wall, and then slowly raised the Tec-9 and pointed it at Hassan's head.

"I'm pretty sure that I can hit you without touching a hair on her head," he said boldly.

He tilted his head to one side and made a show out of squinting one eye and looking through the weapon's sights.

Hassan nervously heaved me up a little higher in an effort for more of my head to block his. By this point I was standing on my toes and I had to keep doing it in order to be able to breathe.

"Yeah, I can make that shot," Gino continued. "So this is the last time I'm gonna say it nice. Fucking let her go."

Bobby was inching in from the side, but his course of action would be limited.

He wouldn't shoot and risk the bullet going through Hassan and into me.

And for now, Hassan's focus was on Gino.

I knew that if I could get Hassan to loosen his grip on me then I could duck down out of the way and any number of people would have a shot at Hassan.

Of course, the bomb was also a concern.

I hadn't seen a detonator or a timer when he'd showed me what he had strapped to his chest.

He probably had a switch of some sort if his pocket, which meant that if I got away, and he wasn't taken out immediately, he could push it and then we'd all be dead.

I clutched the knife tightly in my hand and debated my best course of action.

If I stabbed him in the arm, he'd undoubtedly let go, but the pre-strike motion would be more noticeable.

I'd have to depend on a quick attack and it would be an awkward angle.

On the other hand, if I went for the thigh, I'd have a better chance of causing a deep, penetrating wound.

But would he still instantly let go?

Probably. But was probably good enough?

Right now, it had to be.

I couldn't see Bobby's eyes from where I was standing and I really wished that I could. Partly because I wanted to be doing this with him and partly because if something went wrong…well, I couldn't think like that.

I had a job to do and I needed someone to help me do it.

And since I couldn't use Bobby, I was going to have to depend on Gino.

It was a scary thought, but at the same time, he'd given me back my knife.

And he'd brought back-up.

I stared hard at him, willing him to look at me.

He finally did and so I dropped my eyes quickly in the direction of my knife and then brought my gaze back to his.

And then I mouthed my countdown.

_Three. _

_Two. _

_One._

**TBC...**


	52. Chapter 52

**Bobby POV**

* * *

As soon as I watched Hassan grab onto Alex's hand and whisper into her ear, I knew that we were in trouble.

And of course, I could hear what he was saying.

She was wearing her wire for our benefit even though we had the whole place miked up.

He was suspicious of her.

This was exactly what we _didn't_ want.

With every fiber of my being, I wanted to shout, "Run!"

But I didn't.

I didn't want a repeat of the Banta bust where the whole thing went to hell because of an overreaction.

I watched as Alex handed over her gun and then Hassan added, "And the knife. I wouldn't want you to try to cut off any of _my_ appendages."

Appendage.

That was the precise word that Alex used as a threat to Gino yesterday in the alley.

Hassan had been listening?

This was even worse than I thought.

"Shit," Maas said gruffly as I struggled to rein in my panic. "We need to get her out of there. We need to…"

But while he was talking, Hassan gave the order to open fire.

We all had our weapons drawn already so we immediately returned fire, but even as I pulled the trigger for the first time, Maas went down next to me.

My shot took out Dorsey and then I heard Logan curse violently as he went down to his knees.

"Logan!" I called out as Semere also dropped to the floor. I wasn't sure if it was my shot or Logan's that had hit him. I'm pretty sure that at this point it didn't matter.

I squeezed off a few more rounds and then I stopped firing. So did Gino.

"Give it up, Goren!" Hassan called out to me.

"I don't think so, Hassan," I replied, although I kept my position behind the cracked motor of an old yacht.

"What do you think you're going to do?"

He kept talking, but I mostly tuned him out so that I could assess the damage.

"Maas," I said in a harsh whisper, looking over at him to see where he'd been hit.

And of course we were all wearing vests.

Well, all except for Alex.

I hadn't wanted to wear one. In my mind, it wouldn't be fair to leave her unprotected while I was cloaked in Kevlar, but she'd insisted that it would be inconsiderate of me to argue.

"_Inconsiderate?" _I'd questioned.

"_If I'm going to go through all the trouble of getting up close and personal with Hassan, the least you can do is make sure that you come out of this thing alive, okay?"_

Her tone was light despite the serious nature of our topic. Neither of us wanted to think about that kind of possibility and yet it would be careless of us not to.

"_But what about you?"_

"_I'm not protected, so you don't want to be protected? Bobby…"_ she'd trailed off in frustration. "_I'll be _with_ them. If they want to shoot me, a vest isn't going to make any difference. You could be taking fire from a distance. A vest _will_ make a difference."_

"_But…"_

"_I don't like playing dirty with you, but I will to get what I want,"_ she said to me. _"This is too important."_

"_Play dirty?"_ I asked.

"_Uh huh," _she answered with a sharp nod. Then she held my gaze, looking at me with those damn gorgeous eyes of hers that are my undoing, and she said carefully, _"If you love me, you'll wear the vest."_

Needless to say, I was wearing the vest.

And maybe it hadn't helped me at this point, but it had definitely helped Maas.

He had a hole in his jacket the size of a ping pong ball.

The fabric covering the armor inside of the vest had split open so that I could see the silver guts of the Kevlar.

A shot like that would've meant instant death.

Instead, it probably spelled cracked ribs.

Because the thing about Kevlar is that even though it protects you from the bullet, it still hurts like hell to get shot.

It's like being hit with a baseball bat.

One swung by Derek Jeter.

The wind was knocked out of him and as I looked at him, he continued to inhale in short gasps, but he couldn't seem to exhale.

"Relax," I said urgently, and then because I realized that Hassan had stopped talking, I called out, "I'm not walking away. Now let her go."

Hassan laughed and yelled back, "Why would I let her go? I've got you outgunned and outmanned. I think I'll keep her as my reward."

"Reward for what?"

Although I knew the answer. He thought he'd won.

As far as I was concerned, the game wasn't over.

I ignored him again and checked Maas' pulse while he continued to struggle to breathe normally. I saw then that he'd taken a shot to the arm, too, but it didn't look horrible. I pulled out my handkerchief and pressed hard against the blood flow.

"Hold this here," I instructed. "And don't try to talk."

I was encouraged by his strong pulse and even though he was wheezing a little, he wasn't bleeding from the mouth yet and his color was decent.

"Logan?"

"How's Maas?" he ground out.

"One to the chest and one to the arm. Probably cracked ribs. You?"

"I feel like I got kicked in the gut by a mule, but thank God for Kevlar," he answered. "And that bastard Semere clipped my hand, but I'm pretty sure I got him. Did I get him?"

"Yeah," I answered quickly. "Dorsey and Semere are both down."

I listened to Hassan bark out orders to Gino while I tried to let the other half of my brain run free to determine the best way out of this situation.

First off, Maas needed medical attention. And Logan, too. His hand was bleeding profusely and he was extremely pale. I was worried about internal damage. The bullet that had caught him in the abdomen had done similar damage to his vest as that of Maas. They were both going to be purple for weeks.

And then suddenly I heard footsteps entering the building, and the pitch of Hassan's voice changed.

"What is the meaning of this?"

I did a quick check and saw that five unknowns had joined the party.

"We know what you did," Gino said. "Now let the agent go. This isn't her fight."

"Gino's on our side?" Logan asked in surprise.

"Looks like it, but I'm not taking any chances," I said as I reloaded my gun. "Okay, I'm going to move to the right. You take Maas and get out the door to the left. Call a bus and get us some back-up."

I didn't wait for Logan's response, but instead shifted several yards to the right, and then I stood up and began circling around the group in the center of the room.

"We don't kill feds," Gino was saying.

_Good to know, Gino. I'd hate to have to kill you since it looks like you might have saved the day._

"You might not, but I do," Hassan yelled. He jerked Alex, dragging her backwards with him and yet keeping her in front of him as a human shield. "If you want me, you're going to have to shoot through her."

I saw movement amidst the boats where Logan was trying to get Maas out. I didn't want any of the newcomers to see them and think they were a threat, so I yelled out to Hassan to get everyone's attention shifted to me.

"Hassan, let her go!"

"I'll blow us all up," he asserted. "What do I care?"

"Nobody's going to kill anybody. Just let her go and then we can talk about this," I lied.

There wasn't going to be any talking.

The Toscano boys who had shown up to help Gino would never let Hassan leave this building alive.

Maybe that should bother me more than it did, but all I wanted to do was get Alex out of the line of fire.

"We don't want to kill you, Hassan," Gino said with a grin. "We just want to let the feds take you in. We want to see you punished for what you did. You killed Bruto."

Gino was a lot smarter than we'd given him credit for. He had to know the building was wired. He was going to get a confession from Hassan as well as establish that he had no intention of killing him.

Of course, he still _would_ kill him. Of that I had no doubt. But now he'd be on tape stating that he didn't want to.

I continued to ease to the side, looking for the perfect angle to take the shot.

But the thing about bullet trajectory…it's tricky.

If I shot Hassan in the side of the head, that bullet might rattle around in his skull and then come out the front.

There was no way I could risk that.

My best chance would be to go for soft mass. I had to aim at the mid-section, just below the ribcage.

The bomb was an unknown factor, though, and I had to consider that as well. I couldn't let him get to the detonator.

Assuming there was one.

Or had he put it on a timer and any minute now the whole place would go up?

I wished I could see Alex. I needed to look her in the eyes to see what she was going to do next because I had no doubt that she was formulating something.

Gino and Hassan shouted back and forth for a minute and then Gino got what he'd been looking for.

Hassan admitted to killing Bruto.

"It was three years ago," he said. "Get over it."

"Get over it?" Gino yelled back, and I watched as he moved closer to Hassan and Alex.

I shifted my aim to Gino.

I couldn't let him shoot Hassan. Not right now.

Not while Alex was still in the way.

But he didn't raise his gun. Instead he moved so close to Hassan that he was nearly sandwiching Alex between the two of them.

It was like he'd forgotten about her altogether.

_What is he doing? _

And then I saw Alex's movement and the glint of silver.

She had my knife.

And considering how quickly Gino moved away once she had it, that had been the intent for his rant.

I was going to owe Gino for the rest of my life.

I swung my aim back to Hassan while Gino raised his Tec-9 and pointed it at Hassan's head.

The movement caused Hassan to pull Alex up higher in an effort to protect himself, but now she was up on her toes.

The change in position made her arch her back, creating space between his midsection and her body.

It was perfect.

I knew that she was going to stab him to get herself free, but in order to save us from the potential explosion, we'd have to shoot Hassan at nearly the same moment.

Timing was critical.

Hassan knew that his days were numbered so surely he felt as though he had nothing to lose.

He wouldn't hesitate to kill us all.

I couldn't see Alex's face, so instead I watched Gino's because I know my Alex.

She'd find a way to get him to understand what she planned to do.

So I stared at Gino's eyes and I knew the precise moment when she had his attention, which was followed almost immediately by recognition.

And that was when I started a silent three-second countdown in my head.

Logan appeared in the far doorway as I reached the count of one, but there wasn't time to bring him up to speed.

I watched as Alex drew back the hand with the knife and then quickly and efficiently jammed it into Hassan's thigh.

He let out a scream as he relaxed his grip on her and she immediately dropped to the floor.

Gino and I fired at the same time.

Hassan, who had been reaching down to grab the knife from his thigh, fell forward as the bullets hit his body.

He sprawled out over top of Alex, pinning her against the floor.

"Alex!"

"I'm okay!"

"Don't move!" I yelled to her as I sprinted towards Hassan. "We need to check the bomb!"

It wasn't protocol for me to ignore the six armed mafia men in the room, but I had to trust that they would remain firmly on our side.

At least for tonight. I mean, they could've opened fire on Hassan at any time, but they hadn't, which told me that they truly didn't want to hurt Alex.

They only wanted payback on Hassan.

As I dropped to my knees next to Alex and Hassan, Logan came running from the opposite direction, his gun in his left hand.

He called out to Gino and the others, "Do me a favor, boys, and toss down your weapons."

"They're okay, Logan. Help me roll him over!"

Despite my words, I still heard the clatter of guns hitting the concrete and the next thing I knew, Gino and Logan both came to help me get Hassan onto his back.

Once we had him off of Alex, she got to her knees next to us. Logan had pulled Hassan's jacket aside and he was looking at the explosives.

Hassan himself was barely breathing.

None of us made any move to do first aid. The bomb had to be our first priority. Besides, from the look of the hole in his chest, it wouldn't do any good anyway.

I'd been aiming for his midsection, but since he'd hunched over to grab the knife, I'd caught him in the side of the chest, right under his arm.

And the exit wound was in the front.

See what I mean about bullet trajectories?

"Enzo!" Gino called out. "Come look at this."

"Enzo knows explosives?" I asked him.

"He has some experience in the field," he replied vaguely.

The guy named Enzo cautiously knelt down next to me and took a look at the device. He tugged at one section and exposed the face of a digital watch which was in countdown mode.

It read 1:09.

"What you got here is your basic C-4," Enzo said casually. "He wired in the det cord and connected it with the watch so that when the timer reaches zero…well, you know. Boom."

"Hey, Enzo," Logan said uneasily. "Can you make it not go boom?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied as he began fiddling with the wires. Then he patted down his pockets as though he was searching for something but he came up empty. "I just need…oh. This works."

He reached over to the knife that was still sticking in Hassan's thigh and grabbed onto the handle, jerking the blade free.

"All's I gotta do is cut this wire here and then disconnect this wire here…" he muttered as he fingered through the myriad of colored wires. "Of course, it'd be nice to know that I'm not going to jail after this."

"You're going to bargain with us now?" Alex asked him.

The timer clicked down below forty-five seconds.

"Well, you know," he said with a shrug.

"Cut the wires, Enzo," Gino told him. "The feds will do the right thing."

Enzo stared at him for a few seconds longer and then shrugged again and went to work defusing the bomb.

I caught Alex's eye over top of Hassan's body.

She was bloody, but I was pretty sure that none of it was hers.

She'd come out of this mostly unscathed and that was thanks to Gino.

If it was just this latest thing with Hassan, I'd let all of them walk away.

But Gino had killed Banta.

"There ya go," Enzo said, leaning back and holding out the knife, handle first. "Bing, bang…no boom."

I took the knife from him and put it into my pocket before shifting my focus to Hassan.

He was out cold, but he was still dragging in slow, raspy breaths and I decided that maybe I _should_ do something for him.

I mean, now that the bomb threat was over. I couldn't just sit here and watch him die.

I tore off a section of Hassan's shirt and used it as a bandage to cover the exit wound on his chest.

"I can put another bullet in him," Gino offered to me. "You know, save you the trouble."

It was tempting, but that wasn't the way we did things.

"How's Maas?" Alex asked Logan.

"He'll be alright. The bus should be here any minute. And back up," he added pointedly, looking at the others.

"Go out and wait for the EMT's," I told Logan. "Send one of them in here, but Maas gets the first ambulance."

"Of course," he agreed quickly as he got to his feet.

"You go with Maas," Alex said. "Get that hand looked at."

"And your stomach," I added.

"I'm fine," he said. "The hand's a through and through."

"Logan," Alex warned. "I'm not asking."

"Got it, Captain," he conceded. "I'm going with Maas."

"We'll meet you there," she called out as Logan walked away.

He left a trail of blood from his injured hand and he was moving slowly. I was really glad that she'd insisted he get checked out.

"Captain?" Gino questioned once Logan was gone. "I thought you guys were feds."

"We're NYPD," I told him, and then I nodded towards Alex. "She's the boss."

"The boss, huh?" Gino said with a grin. "Okay, boss. How do you want to play this? Can my boys hit the bricks?"

Alex glanced at me briefly before nodding at Gino.

"Vattene!" Gino called out to the others.

"Grazie mille," I added.

Enzo got up and slapped me on the shoulder.

"Di niente," he replied. "It's good be owed by 5-0, right?"

"Right," I agreed, unable to keep from smiling.

My relief at the outcome of this situation was overwhelming, and I had the sudden urge to laugh out loud.

Instead, I told Enzo, "I'm Detective Goren. You ask for me if you get into any trouble."

"Count on it."

Enzo and the others picked up their weapons and left the building through the back exit.

I could hear sirens wailing and I was relieved to know that Maas was going to be getting help.

Hassan, on the other hand, wasn't going to be needing any assistance from the paramedics. He sucked in his last breath as the back doors closed on the exiting mafia men.

"Good riddance," Gino muttered as he got to his feet.

Alex and I got up, too, and for a moment, I shifted my focus just to her.

"You're sure you're okay?" I asked.

"I'll have a few new bruises, but all things considered…"

"Yeah. It could've been a lot worse," I finished. I turned to Gino and held out my hand. He immediately shook it. "Thank you. For everything."

"I didn't do what I did for you guys," he admitted.

"No, but you made sure that I didn't get shot in the process," Alex reminded him. "And you gave me back the knife."

"We've been looking for Bruto's killer. We suspected Hassan, but we didn't know for sure. When you questioned my loyalty and told me that I was betraying Alfredo…I knew you must have evidence of some kind."

The side door flew open and a paramedic along with three uniformed officers rushed over to us.

"No hurry," Alex called out to the paramedic. "They're all DOA."

Gino turned his back to us and held his hands behind him.

I looked at Alex and then slowly pulled my cuffs from my belt.

"If we didn't have to…" Alex began.

"I know. I killed a federal agent."

"And we know that you didn't intend for him to die. The ME will attest to that. We'll do what we can, Gino," I told him.

"These officers are going to take you in for processing," Alex added. "We'll be by to talk to you in the morning. In the mean time, don't say anything to anyone, okay?"

I turned him around and read him his rights before handing him off to the waiting uniformed officers.

"Take him to the lock-up at 1PP," Alex instructed.

"On who's orders? And what the hell happened here?" an officer asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Alex said smartly. "We haven't met. I'm Captain Eames, Major Case. In case you didn't notice, the EMT's outside just loaded Deputy Chief Maas into an ambulance, so you can consider that order either mine or his, whichever one makes you move faster. And I'm pretty sure that whatever happened here is none of your damn business."

"I like her," Gino said as he gave me a wink.

"Yeah, me too."

TBC...


	53. Chapter 53

**Logan POV**

* * *

I sat down on the side bench in the back of the ambulance and then pulled out my phone to call Liz.

"Calling the doc?" Maas mumbled.

He was on a gurney, but it sounded like he was finally breathing a little bit easier. Maybe he didn't have a cracked rib after all.

"I don't think you need her services just yet," he continued. "Hopefully, I don't either."

"Nobody's gonna need an ME, right Garner?" I said, glancing up to look at the attending paramedic.

"A coroner? Shit no. You guys are golden."

"Hear that, Cap? We're golden," I said wryly as I dialed the number.

And I can try to say that I was calling for her benefit, so that she wouldn't worry, but the truth was that I really wanted to hear her voice.

I was feeling light-headed and sick to my stomach and I just wanted to be able to turn it all off.

"Are you okay?" she answered nervously.

"I'm fine," I said immediately.

"Then why do I hear sirens?"

"Maas and I got a little banged up, but we're okay."

"Banged up? As in shot?"

"In the vest," I deflected.

"Which hospital?"

"Which hospital?" I asked Garner.

"Kings County," he replied. I passed on the information.

"No. Uh uh. Tell him you want to go to Bellevue."

"The boss says Bellevue," I relayed.

"Not _my_ boss," Garner argued. "We have to go to the closest ER. That's Kings County."

I didn't even repeat what he said to Liz.

I didn't have to. She heard him.

"Give him the phone," she insisted.

I handed off my cell phone to the paramedic and waited all of fifteen seconds until he handed it back to me and shouted up to the driver, "Make it Bellevue!"

I chuckled as I put the phone to my ear, but then another wave of nausea passed through me, and I did a quick visual scan for an emesis basin.

"Mike?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

Garner saw my dilemma and grabbed a paper bag, shoving it in front of my face.

"I'll meet you there, okay?"

"Uh huh," I managed to say and then I tossed down the phone and grabbed the bag with my good hand.

I'd planned to call Maas' wife for him after I spoke with Liz, but instead I spent the rest of the ambulance ride emptying the contents of my stomach into the brown paper sack.

"I'm going to off-load the captain first," Garner advised me as we came to a stop. "My partner will be around to get you."

"I'm fine right here," I mumbled with my face still in the bag. I couldn't seem to stop my stomach's revolt.

I kept my eyes closed, with my head down between my knees, as I felt the ambulance rock during Maas' departure. My hand throbbed like a son of a bitch, and I just wanted to be home.

No, not home.

I wanted to be at Liz's house, on the rug in front of a fire. With her in my arms, of course.

"Detective? Come on, let's get you inside," the second paramedic said to me.

"Give me a minute."

"No, I need to get you checked out," he insisted rudely.

I started to respond, but then was hit with another round of nausea, so instead I ignored him completely.

He kept talking, seemingly oblivious to my plight.

"Mike?" I heard Liz say, although I was still too sick to look up.

"Ma'am, you can't be out here."

"I have privileges in this hospital," she informed him sharply.

"I'm just trying to get him onto the gurney so we can take him inside."

I finally lifted my head from the bag and unloaded on the paramedic.

"I don't need your fucking gurney. If you would leave me the fuck alone for five fucking minutes then I'll walk in the goddamn ER myself!"

"Hey, man, I'm just trying to help," he retorted.

I continued to glare at him and he finally backed off.

"Five minutes is all you get," he told me. He hopped down and Liz climbed in to take his place. I could still hear him talking as he walked away. "I can't leave the rig parked here all goddamn night, you unappreciative fuck."

"Can you believe that guy?" I asked weakly.

"You didn't just get shot in the vest," she admonished lightly as she knelt down in front of me. She carefully lifted my hand, which had completely bled through the make-shift bandage. "The paramedic did this?"

"I did. I told them to focus on Maas," I admitted.

"And they listened?"

I shrugged, but the motion caused me to be sick again.

Although this time, it didn't seem quite as bad since Liz was running her hand over my head in a soothing manner.

"You've got a fever," she said quietly. "We need to get you started on some Cefroxadine and Compazine and you need a CT scan on your abdomen and your hand has to be x-rayed and probably stitched…"

"Is that your way of telling me to get my ass out of this rig?" I said, once again lifting my head to look at her.

"It's my way of…coping with seeing you like this," she said quietly.

"Well, if you still love me after watching me puke my guts out…"

"That's not what I meant."

"I know," I said. I took in a deep breath in an effort to steady my system. "Okay, I think I can do this."

She got to her feet and then bent over and wrapped her arm around my waist so that she could help me up.

"Are you sure?" she asked when I swayed slightly.

"No. But let's give it a shot and see where we end up."

I managed to make it inside of the ER where we were met by two nurses.

"The paramedic said you were refusing service," one of them said accusingly. "So you want us to help you now?"

"I wasn't…" I began, but then Liz took over, flashing her OCME ID at the nurse.

"The paramedic was trying to bully the patient while he was vomiting. He just needed a minute to get control of himself. Now, what room's open?"

"Trauma six," the other nurse answered.

"Good. I'll take him in there while you page Dr. Snow. And get me a status on Stanley Maas."

"Dating a doctor has its benefits," I said as she helped me into the empty room. "Who's this Dr. Snow?"

"He's the best," she answered.

"No, you're the best," I argued.

I gingerly sat down on the bed while Liz searched through the cabinets. I was still wearing my vest, so I started tugging at it with my left hand.

After a minute, she came over and set a basin next to me on the bed and then took over the task of removing my vest.

She paused briefly, her gaze settling on the damage that had been done to the armor.

"Please tell me that Hassan is in custody," she said in an even tone.

"Either that or he's dead," I answered. "He was hanging on by a thread when I left."

She breathed out a sigh of relief and then resumed her task. She got me out of the vest and then kept going, removing my shirt as well.

"Lay back," she instructed, her gaze focused on my stomach.

"It's just a bruise."

"It's a hell of a bruise," she said, running her hand lightly over the already blue-tinted skin. "How's the nausea?"

"Better. Although I can't imagine there's anything left in there."

I reached down and settled my hand on top of hers, stilling the movements. I started to apologize, although for what I'm not sure. I just felt bad for worrying her so much.

But before I could say the words, the doors opened.

"Dr. Rodgers? It _is_ you," a man asked as he entered the room. He smiled broadly and said, "I heard you were here, but I wasn't sure until I saw all of the nurses cowering."

"Dr. Snow, meet Detective Logan. He's got a through and through to the right hand and a blunt force abdominal injury."

"Ah, the result of a bullet to Kevlar," he stated knowingly as he walked around to the other side of the bed. "You came in with Stanly Maas, right?"

"That's right. How is he?"

"Two cracked ribs and I'm thinking it'll take a couple dozen stitches to sew up his arm," he said. "But he'll be out of here in a few hours. Now let's see if I'll be able to say the same thing about you."

Four hours later, I was still in the trauma room.

Earlier, I'd been cleared for internal bleeding and instead diagnosed with an abdominal wall contusion.

"Which actually _is_ internal bleeding since a contusion is the result of blood leaking from damaged vessels," Liz had muttered after the nurse's declaration.

"Yes, Dr. Rodgers. I understand the definition of a contusion. The diagnosis refers to the lack of significant damage to any organs."

"Wow, they love you here, don't they, Doc?" I teased her.

I was feeling a lot better since they'd pumped me full of anti-nausea medication, antibiotics and morphine.

She rolled her eyes at me and then pinned the nurse with a stare.

"What about his hand? He still needs to go to radiology."

"The portable will be here any minute," the nurse replied stiffly and then she left us alone.

That had been two hours ago.

Goren and Eames had shown up not long after.

"What took you so long?" I asked them.

"Are you kidding me? We had to wait on the entire alphabet," Eames answered. "The ME, FBI, CSU and IAB."

"Hassan?" I questioned.

"Dead," Goren said.

"Thank God," Liz remarked. "Which ME was it?"

"Faulkner," Goren answered. "He's kind of…"

"Annoying? Tell me about it," Liz said. "But he's okay."

"It shouldn't be too difficult," I commented. "COD is gunshot wounds, all the way around."

"Yeah, but they have to determine whose was the fatal shot," Eames said.

"Right. For IAB. But does it really matter? I mean, the bad guys are dead. The good guys prevailed."

"It just has to be documented."

"Did you stop by and see Maas?" I asked them.

"Yeah, he's doing okay. Moran's in with him now. They're going to release him as soon as his IV finishes."

"His wife never came?"

"I didn't see her," Eames said. "Nice, huh?"

"He shouldn't wait for her to kick him out," Goren remarked. "He should just go."

I felt bad for him, sitting in the ER alone.

Well, with Moran, but still…

I'd probably still be face-first inside of a barf bag in the back of the ambulance if it weren't for Liz.

"So what happened after I got Maas out of the building?" I asked, reaching out my good hand to take hold of Liz's. I just wanted that contact.

She sat down on the edge of my bed as Goren and Eames filled us in on what had happened.

At one point during their recount, the portable x-ray machine was brought in and pictures were taken of my hand, but then the tech left on the promise of the doctor returning shortly with the results.

"Gino really came through for you guys," Liz commented when Goren and Eames finished telling their version of events. "And this guy Enzo…it's a little scary that he just happened to know how to defuse a bomb, but I'm glad he did."

"There was a little over a minute on the timer," Goren said. "We probably could've gotten far enough away."

"Yeah, but we didn't even know the timer was there until he started poking around."

"True."

"What's going to happen to Gino?"

"He's in lock-up at 1PP," Goren said. "Alex flexed her muscle."

"With who? The FBI?"

"Casteel was pretty ticked," she said with a nod. "After all, he _did_ kill a federal agent."

"A dirty federal agent," I stated. "And his intent was just to beat him up. Doesn't it count for something that he saved all of our lives? If he'd followed through with Hassan's orders, who knows what would've happened?"

"It counts," Eames said. "That's why I wanted him to stay with us for now until I can make sure he gets some kind of deal."

"What did Moran say?"

"We have a meeting in his office on Monday morning. We'll go over the video of the incident and we'll have to answer any questions that may arise."

"But he was pretty happy," Goren added. "Once again, the NYPD triumphed where the FBI failed."

I didn't care about the whole turf war. All I needed to be happy was for that doctor to come in here and tell me my hand would be fine and then sign off on my discharge papers.

"Detective Logan," Dr. Snow said, coming into the room right as I was thinking about him.

"Give me the good news, Doc."

"Fractured metacarpal number five," he answered quickly as he jammed the x-ray onto the light board. "Right here. You're pretty damn lucky, that's all I can say. Small caliber bullet, high velocity…just in and out."

He clicked the light back off and then walked over to me, picking up my injured hand.

"I'll do an open debridement, maybe throw in a few sub-q's, and then I'll stitch up both sides."

"Sounds simple enough," I said, although I looked to Liz as I spoke since he was using doc-speak, but she nodded at me encouragingly.

"That's great," she told him. "But if it's going to take three more hours to do all of that, maybe I can just do it."

"It's Saturday night in the ER, Rodgers," Snow replied. "If you want to take the detective off my hands, then he's all yours. I'll send in the nurse to get you set up."

So Liz took care of my hand.

Goren and Eames went home, promising to check in on me tomorrow.

Maas stopped by on his way out, too, along with Moran.

"That should do it," Liz said, scooting back to admire her work. "You're an excellent patient."

"That's not all I'm good at."

"Mike," she said, laughing and shaking her head. "You were shot. We've been in the ER for more than six hours. Are you really flirting with me?"

"Well, Snow did say that I was all yours."

"I didn't need Snow to tell me that," she said, leaning down to kiss me lightly on the cheek. "Let me go get your discharge papers and then I'll take you home."

She got up from the stool and headed for the doors.

"Home?" I questioned.

"Yeah, my place," she answered with a smile.

I settled back against the pillow and let out a heavy sigh.

Home sounded great to me.

TBC...


	54. Chapter 54

**Liz POV**

* * *

It was almost dawn by the time I parked the car outside of my building.

Mike was snoring in the passenger seat, having finally succumbed to the effects of the medication.

I was exhausted, too, but more mentally than physically.

I'd worried relentlessly while he was gone.

He and Goren had left fairly early in the evening, along with Maas, so that they could establish their position prior to Hassan showing up for the meeting.

Eames had stayed behind with me.

We sat in the hotel bar, her sipping on a diet Coke while I worked my way through a tumbler of bourbon. I only drank one because I wanted to be alert while I waited to hear from Mike, but that one had definitely been required to take the edge off.

"We've got all the bases covered," she assured me, obviously picking up on my unease.

"Let's talk about something else," I said.

At that point, it was still four hours until the scheduled meet, and I was going to drive myself crazy if I couldn't get my mind off of it.

Of course, Eames was going to be in the most dangerous position of all, so I realized that maybe I was being selfish.

"Unless you want to talk about it," I added. "You know, go over everything again."

"No," she answered. "I'm good. What do you want to talk about?"

It was the first time that the two of us had been alone for any significant amount of time, and I honestly wasn't sure what to discuss.

She didn't seem to be much of a talker when it came to personal things and yet we were steadfastly avoiding work.

"Tell me how you and Logan got together," she said, since I remained quiet.

I barked out a laugh and shook my head.

Okay, so maybe we _were_ going to go with personal.

"You already know," I reminded her. "I ran into him at Pete's."

"No, I mean who made the first move?" she asked, looking at me with a mischievous smile on her face. "And I don't want the glossed-over version you'd give your mother. I want details."

So I told her about our coffee miscommunication, and then she told me how Goren had yelled at her the first time he told her he loved her and how she'd argued with him that he didn't.

She'd briefly touched on the matter last weekend at Pete's, but now this time she gave me all of the details.

I tried to picture the look on his face when he'd walked in on her changing clothes. He was such a gentleman...but he was also a _man_, so I could just imagine that the scenario had him tied in knots.

"But let me tell you…even angry, the man knows how to kiss," she said with a smile. "He had my head going in twenty different directions."

"Why on earth did you try to tell him he didn't love you?" I asked her. "I mean, that's what you'd been waiting for, right?"

"Yeah, well just because I'm smart at work doesn't mean that I am at home, too," she answered wryly.

"Well, I'm glad you figured it out. If you two don't belong together, then I don't know who does. It's just a fact."

"You know what's strange…I would've never put you and Logan together," she replied. I tried to decide how to take that remark, but then she continued by saying, "But now that you are, I can't imagine anyone better for him than you. I can see a difference in him already. You're really good for him, Liz."

"He's a great guy," I said thoughtfully. "I'm surprised that no one's grabbed him up before now."

"Well, timing is everything," she said as she checked her watch. "And speaking of timing…"

Right. The meeting with Hassan. It had been nice to pass the time away discussing lighter topics, but now it was time to get back to reality.

"Be careful," I told her.

So she'd left me alone in the bar, but I didn't stay there. Instead I went back to my place and kept myself busy with mundane tasks until Mike called.

And of course, I'd known right away that something had happened. Otherwise, he would've texted to let me know that it was over.

Instead, I answered the phone to the sound of sirens.

My heart was in my throat, but at least it was _him_ on the other end.

"Maas and I got a little banged up, but we're okay."

"Banged up? As in shot?"

"In the vest."

"Which hospital?" I asked him. He checked with the paramedic and then mentioned Kings County, but there was no way I was going to let him go to that place.

And my mulish attitude about that fact was surely a mask for my fear over how badly he was potentially hurt, but I didn't care.

In an uncharacteristic display of abuse of power, I threatened the paramedic.

"The Chief of EMS is my ex-husband. Do you really want me to call and wake him up so that he can _order_ you to do as I say or are you just going to do it?"

Of course, my ex wouldn't give me a band-aid, much less order one of his paramedics to break protocol, but this guy didn't know that.

And needless to say, they went to Bellevue.

We spent the next six hours in the emergency room, but all in all, I was grateful for how well things turned out.

When I helped Mike out of his bullet-proof vest and saw its battered condition, I'd nearly grabbed for the basin, needing to throw up myself. Just the thought of what he would've looked like if he hadn't worn that vest...

Even so, I knew that it had to hurt like hell, and it was a miracle that nothing was more seriously damaged.

And then of course, there was the injury to his hand.

That had been deemed the less emergent of the two injuries, so it took forever to get the final diagnosis, and by that time, there was no way that I was going to wait around for Dr. Snow to come back and stitch him up.

But when I made the offer to do it myself, I didn't consider how difficult it would be.

Sticking a needle in his hand to numb the area, cleaning out the dirt and debris…it's different taking care of a loved one.

Not only that, but I was used to dealing with patients who feel no pain.

"You would've made a great ER doc," Mike told me as I worked on his hand.

"I don't have the temperament for working with live patients," I countered.

"There's nothing wrong with your temperament. I happen to like it."

"Oh, so you like surly and cynical," I teased, looking up to find him watching me carefully.

"Sarcastic…borderline rude…oh, yeah."

"Then you must just love me."

"I do."

So now, hours later, I finally had him home.

I managed to get him into the house, but he was asleep on his feet and I basically just steered him in the direction of the bedroom.

"Lay down," I told him when he stopped and stood wavering at the foot of the bed.

"I'm still a mess," he mumbled. "I'll get blood…and…whatever…all over everything."

"We'll worry about that tomorrow," I said as I guided him onto the bed.

He stretched out on his back and I moved to take off his shoes and socks. Once I had those off, I undid his belt buckle and then pulled off his pants.

I left him in his t-shirt and boxers and pulled the covers up over him.

"I can't remember anyone ever taking care of me before," he said without opening his eyes. "Thank you."

I wasn't sure how to respond to such a sad confession, but I didn't need to. He was already back asleep. I left him so that I could get myself ready for bed, but I was only gone for a few minutes and then I slipped under the covers next to him.

I slept until nearly noon. That may sound late, but considering it was almost six when we went to bed, it wasn't all that bad.

I was on call today, but so far I'd gotten lucky. The call shift started at seven a.m., so I was counting my blessings that I'd been able to get some sleep.

"You're not thinking about getting up, are you?" Mike said in a sleepy voice. I'd been laying on my back, but at the sound of his voice, I turned on my side to face him.

"I was thinking about it," I admitted. "But I plan to come back."

He reached out and ran his hand lightly down my arm.

"I don't remember anything after leaving the hospital," he said with a smile. "I must have really been out of it."

"You mean you don't remember us getting married in Atlantic City?" I teased. "I'll have to show you the photos."

"I think you'd have to be the one drugged up for that to happen," he argued, still grinning. "Maybe I'll slip you one of my pain pills and carry you off to Vegas."

"You don't want to get married," I reminded him.

It was something we'd discussed before. In the abstract, of course. He and I were of the same mind on the topic.

"True. But if I did, I'd want it to be you."

"Such a romantic," I replied jokingly, although it was true. He _was_ a romantic, and his sweet words almost made me want to reconsider my aversion to the institution.

Almost. If my ex hadn't ruined me on the prospect.

But for now, I felt the same as Mike. I didn't want to be married, but if I ever changed my mind about that, I'd definitely want it to be him.

I reached up and took his hand in mine, kissing it lightly and then settting it back down on the mattress as I moved to get up.

"I'm going to fix us something to eat and get your medicine. How's your stomach feeling?" I asked him.

"Sore, but not upset. I'm hungry."

"Good. And the hand?"

"You can do a full exam when you get back," he told me. I raised my eyebrow at him and so he added, "It hurts, but it's manageable."

"Okay. Give me ten minutes."

"And then you're coming back?" he asked, and his tone was both hopeful and unsure and I was reminded of what he'd said to me when we'd gotten into the bed.

No one had ever taken care of him.

Could that actually be true? Probably. He certainly wasn't the type to make something up just for sympathy.

"I promise."

Eight minutes later, I was back in the bedroom and we spent a few more hours in the bed, not doing much of anything. It was the most fun I've had being lazy in a long time.

So of course, I had to get a call.

I jotted down the address and hung up on the promise of being on-scene within the hour.

"Work calls," I said with no small amount of disappointment. "Hopefully I can be back by dinner, okay?"

"I'll be fine," he assured me. "I'll probably take another nap. Those pills wipe me out."

So I showered and dressed and by the time I left, Mike was once again sound asleep.

I drove up to mid-town and collected the latest victim. She was a twenty-four year old paralegal who had apparently been strangled. The case belonged to the 2-4, so I spoke with the detectives and gave them my preliminary report and then took the body back to the morgue.

It was almost six o'clock by the time I completed the autopsy and sent my report to the investigating detectives, so as I left the building, I called Mike.

"I'm leaving now. Do you want me to bring home some dinner?" I asked him.

"I've got it covered," he answered.

"Are you sure? I don't mind."

"Just come home."

Twenty minutes later, I walked into my place and immediately smelled something wonderful cooking, and there was a large vase of flowers on the table.

"You bought flowers for the house?" I asked Mike when I found him in the kitchen.

"I bought flowers for you," he corrected, as though I'd lost my mind.

I couldn't resist leaning over to sniff the fragrant arrangement.

"I can't remember the last time a man bought me flowers," I admitted and I was almost embarrassed by the amount of pleasure I received from the gesture.

I turned around and found that he had come up behind me.

"Well _that_ is a crime," he said quietly, moving his left hand over my cheek and then into my hair.

He kissed me, taking it to just this side of innocent before pulling away.

"Maybe even a Major Case," he added. He lowered his tone and said, "I may have to investigate."

How was it that just his words could wreak havoc on my system?

"But later," he continued as he kissed along my neck and up to my ear. "First, I cooked dinner."

"You actually cooked?"

"I'm not promising that it's any good," he said on a laugh. "But yeah, I cooked."

"I'm…impressed."

"As well you should be. I did it all left-handed," he said wryly. "I figured I'd better work on becoming ambidextrous. I may have to qualify on the range with my left hand."

"You'll heal," I stated, knowing that the damage to his shooting hand was a real concern for him.

"Are you sure? I don't have much movement."

"Its been less than twenty-four hours," I reminded him. "Give it time."

"I'm going back tomorrow," he said, cautiously as though he expected me to argue.

"I figured that you would."

"You're not going to try to talk me out of it?"

"What would be the point?" I answered with a smile. I glanced around the kitchen and saw various pots and pans on the stove. "I can't wait to see what you made, but do you mind if I shower first? I reek of formaldehyde and decaying flesh."

"So that's what that smell is," he teased. "You know I think I've become addicted to that scent."

He pulled me close to him again and buried his nose in my hair, inhaling deeply. I laughed and shook my head, pushing him away.

"How many more of those pain pills did you take after I left?"

"None," he said pointedly. "I'm just happy."

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh. So go take your shower while I serve up dinner and open the wine."

"You can open the wine with one hand?"

"Sweetheart, you'll be amazed by what I can do with one hand**."**

TBC...


	55. Chapter 55

**Bobby POV**

* * *

"It feels so good to be home," Alex said as we went inside the apartment.

It was three o'clock in the morning, and we hadn't been here since last week at almost this exact time.

That was when we'd gotten the call from Banta about Hassan.

Maas had taken care of having a new deadbolt installed on our door and, other than the replaced lock, there was little evidence of the break-in.

He was right when he said that we might not have even known if not for the lock and the neighbor.

It was definitely just a ruse to get us to come home.

And we probably could've come back later, after Alex made the deal with Hassan to leave us alone, but neither of us fully trusted him. And obviously that was for good reason.

Not only that, but the hotel actually worked out better for what we had to do. It was close to the federal building so Alex could walk and make herself available for approach, and it also had multiple exits that made it easier for Logan and me to come and go undetected.

But that was over.

And she was exactly right.

It felt great to be home.

"Let's do it right then," I said to her as I emptied my pockets onto the kitchen table. "Let's bring all of your stuff here."

"I already have everything I need right here," she countered. She took off her jacket and then stepped up to me, placing her hands flat on my chest. "What else could I possibly need?"

"The rest of your clothes," I answered practically. "Personal things that we never took the time to pack up. This place still looks like it belongs to a single man."

"It looks just fine. And I've been living here for almost a year. If there was something there that I needed, I would've gotten it by now."

"Okay," I agreed.

She continued to watch me as she moved her hands across my chest.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing," I said with a shrug, dropping my gaze to the floor.

"Bobby…"

She let my name hang in the air between us until I brought my eyes to hers.

"If you want my whole collection of ABBA vinyl cluttering up your closet, then let's do it. I didn't say no because I need an escape hatch. I said no because there's honestly nothing there that I need."

"An escape hatch?" I repeated in amusement.

Her astute assessment made me realize that I was being silly. She wasn't going anywhere, and I didn't need her prom dress from 1985 in my apartment to prove it.

"You think I want to have a place to run to when you get on my nerves."

"I'm pretty sure that I never get on your nerves."

She smiled fully, laughing a little as she shook her head.

"I'm pretty sure that sometimes you do. But that doesn't make me want to run."

"No?" I asked as I wrapped my arms around her.

I held her tightly, appreciating the feel of her after such a harrowing experience only hours ago.

_And I had Gino to thank_, I reminded myself.

I was really going to have to be creative to find a way to help him.

"Does it make you want to tie me up and punish me like the bad boy that I am?" I teased.

I could feel the laughter rolling through her, but I didn't wait for her response.

Instead, I tipped her head back and brought my lips down to hers.

I took my time with the kiss, thinking all the while how glad I was to be done with this Hassan mess.

No more undercover work for Alex.

She could stay safe inside her office at 1PP.

And she'd probably beat me senseless if I ever said something like that out loud, but I can't help the way I feel.

Watching her at the mercy of Hassan, held against him as a shield while guns were pointed at them and a bomb was strapped and ticking only inches away…it was too much.

It made that protective nature in me kick into overdrive.

"I don't want to tie you up," she said softly as she tilted her head to one side, giving me access to her neck. "It would be such a waste to restrict your talented hands."

"You think my hands are talented?" I asked.

I used my nose to push her hair back from her shoulder, and then I kissed my way up to hear ear and bit down gently on her earlobe.

"Hands, teeth, tongue…every part of you is highly skilled," she murmured on a contented sigh. "Let's go to bed."

"You're easy."

"I'm exhausted," she countered as she took my hand and led the way down the hall.

"Does that mean you're going to make me do all the work?"

She glanced at me over her shoulder and flashed me a smirk.

"Is that a problem for you, Detective?"

It wasn't.

In fact, I got quite a bit of pleasure out of taking control and I'm pretty sure she did, too.

On Sunday, we slept until almost twelve and then went to see Gino. Afterwards, we met Johnny for lunch.

"I'm glad you finally decided to make some time for your father," he said when we sat down at his table.

"It's only been a week, Dad," Alex reminded him as she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

"A week in retired-time is an eternity," he answered. "And I'm starving, so let's order and then you two can catch me up."

So we ordered and as soon as the waiter left our table, her father pounced.

"I called your office a couple of times and Moran answered your phone. What the hell's been going on?"

"Why'd you call my office instead of my cell phone?" she countered.

"Alex," he warned, but she just looked at me with a gleam in her eye and then turned back to Johnny.

"I'm out," she told him casually. "I'm no longer the captain."

"What? Alex, you can't…" he yelled, and then he stopped, shaking his head and waggling his finger at her. "You almost got me. Now spill it, Captain."

So we told him about the Hassan case. Alex gave him the watered down version, but he got the gist.

"And this Gino guy…what's going to happen to him?"

"We're not sure yet," I answered. "We talked to him a little bit ago. He's in lock-up at 1PP."

"He kept a terrorist from buying a shipment of illegal weapons," he stated. "That has to count for something."

"It does, Dad," Alex said. "We'll do what we can. But he'll still have to face federal charges for what happened to Agent Banta."

"I would think that him saving the lives of four NYPD detectives would outweigh him taking the life of one dirty agent," Johnny scoffed. He shook his head and took a sip of his water and then asked, "So how's Logan doing?"

"He'll probably be out for a week or so," Alex replied. I couldn't hold back a sound of disbelief and Alex turned to me and said, "What?"

"You honestly think he's going to stay out of work?"

"He was shot through the hand. And his stomach is probably black and blue. Yeah, I think he'll be out."

"Okay," I said dubiously.

"Have you talked to him?" she questioned.

"No. I thought we'd stop by after lunch," I answered.

"That's a good idea. I'm going to tell him not to bother to show up until he has a doctor's note clearing him for duty."

"That's kind of harsh, don't you think, sweetheart?" Johnny asked her. "The guy can do desk duty, right?"

"And he will. After he's taken a few days off. He won't be cleared fully until he can re-qualify on the range."

"So where does that leave Bobby?" her dad asked.

"Good question, Captain. Where does that leave me?"

"You're going to help Yuille and Wyatt finish that Schuler case. It's gone on long enough."

"Yeah, I've got a theory about that," I admitted.

"About the killer?" she asked.

"Uh huh. Or at least Babcock's killer."

"Who's Babcock?" Johnny asked.

"A second victim," Alex told him. "Same lipstick on the underwear."

"Somebody's killing off the hooker's johns?"

"I think it's more than that," I said.

"You care to share?" she asked me.

"I'll fill you in during our daily briefing," I told her with a smile. "I want to run my theory past my temporary partners first."

We spent the next hour or so with Johnny, and then we left him and went back to the car with the plan to visit Logan.

"Let's call first," I suggested. "I don't want to pull them out of bed with unexpected visitors."

"Good idea. Check on Maas first though."

I called Maas but it went straight to voice mail, so then I called Logan's cell and found out that he wasn't even home. Not that I'd expected him to be at _his_ home, but he wasn't at Liz's place either.

"I'm at the store. I had to pick up a few things," he said.

"I guess you're feeling better."

"Liz got called into work and I had to get out of the house."

"Do you need any help?" I offered.

"No, I'm good. But thanks. I'll see you in the morning, okay? But don't tell the boss."

"I have a feeling that she'll notice," I remarked. Alex raised her eyebrow at me, but I just smiled and shook my head.

"I'm hoping that once I'm there she'll take pity on me."

"Good luck with that."

I hung up with him and put my finger to Alex's lips before she could ask.

"Don't be my boss right now," I said.

She stared at me for a moment longer and then said, "Who would you rather I be?"

"Exactly who you are," I said, leaning across the console to kiss her. "The love of my life."

"You're going to try to romance me into not asking questions?"

"Is it working?"

"Maybe," she answered as I moved in to kiss her again. "Yes."

The kiss went on for several minutes until I finally moved back to my side of the car.

"You want to know what he said?" I asked as she started the car.

"No," she said after only a moment's deliberation. "You know what I want to do?"

"What?"

"Let's go by my place and pack a few boxes."

So that was how we spent Sunday evening.

We went to Alex's apartment and packed up half a dozen boxes filled with books and pictures and personal keepsakes.

And then we went back to my place – _our_ place – and comingled her items with mine.

"This is much better," I said when we finally sat down on the couch together.

"It is, isn't it?" she mused as she rested her head against my shoulder.

"If the place looked like this when Maas came to investigate the break-in, we would've been busted."

"You mean busted before you said I love you on an open com device," she teased.

"Yeah, that," I said, chuckling lightly. "It's almost a relief now that we've been able to talk about it with him, don't you think?"

"Definitely. And we have someone higher up who will help watch out for us."

"You think he sees his life in ours," I stated. "He's protecting us because he wishes someone would've been around to protect him."

"Yeah, I think so. I can't imagine how he must have felt when he found out that the woman he loved was marrying Casteel," she said sadly. "I have to admit that thought crossed my mind a few times over the years."

"What's that?"

"You know, the idea that you might find someone else while I was secretly pining for you."

"Well, that was pretty unlikely since I was secretly pining for you, too."

"Yeah, but you know what I mean. I was afraid for awhile that maybe we'd missed our chance. And the thought of you falling in love with another woman…"

"That was never going to happen," I interrupted. "I was always just biding my time with you."

"Biding your time?' she said on a laugh. "You didn't come clean until you walked in on me changing clothes."

"Yeah, well you were torturing me," I agreed. "A man can only take so much."

"Really?" she asked coyly. Her hand that had been resting on my chest began a slow downward track. "And how much is that?"

"It's…hard to say," I answered as I drew in a shaky breath. She moved her hand over me with just the right amount of pressure, and I went from mildly interested to needy desperation in a matter of seconds.

"Hard to say, huh?" she repeated is a suggestive tone.

And then she got up from the couch and instead got down on her knees in front of me and then she reached for my belt buckle.

"Well then," she continued. "Let's find out."

TBC...


	56. Chapter 56

**Alex POV**

* * *

Monday morning.

Three weeks ago, we'd gone back to 1PP for the first time in almost ten months.

Today felt almost the same.

We'd spent a lot of time at the federal building over the past week, only putting in brief, sporadic appearances at 1PP, and I was most definitely ready to put all of that behind us.

I didn't care if I ever saw the inside of the federal building again.

"Just drop me here, Alex," Bobby said when we were about eight blocks away.

He'd originally planned on taking the subway, but I didn't think there was any harm in driving him most of the way.

It was a nice morning and we were ahead of schedule, so he said he didn't mind walking a little bit.

Although I hadn't planned on making him walk eight blocks.

"I can go closer," I told him.

"No, really. This is fine. I'm going to pick up some coffee."

So I pulled over in front of a fire hydrant and quickly glanced around before grabbing him by the tie and pulling him over for a kiss.

"I was going to get a cup for you," he said with a smirk. "You didn't have to use your feminine wiles."

"You think that's what that was?" I teased.

"Wasn't it?"

"Get the good stuff," I said with a smile. "And don't be late. Moran's office at eight-thirty."

"I'll make it," he assured me as he got out of the car.

And he did have plenty of time. It was only seven forty-five.

But sometimes Bobby is easily distracted.

I left him in front of the café and headed for 1PP. I pulled in the parking garage just ahead of Maas, so I waited for him at the elevator.

"How're you feeling?" I asked him when he arrived.

"Like I got run over by a Mack truck," he answered. "You?"

"Me? I'm fine," I told him. "A few bumps and bruises, but I'll live. You're just here for the meeting, right? You're not staying."

"Are you trying to get rid of me, Captain?"

"I'm looking out for you," I corrected as we got onto the elevator. "We called you a couple of times yesterday but only got voice mail."

"I appreciate that," he responded, and then he fell silent for a minute, staring up at the display of floor numbers as the lights moved from one to the next.

After another moment, he turned to me and said quietly, "My wife kicked me out."

"She did?" I asked in surprise. "When?"

It wasn't so much that I was surprised that it had happened, since he'd mentioned that it was a possibility, but the timing of it was really bad. The man needed rest and some TLC, not to be tossed out on his ass.

"When I got home from the hospital, my suitcase was on the front porch."

"Wow…Captain…"

"I'm pretty sure you should be calling me Stanley during a conversation like this," he said with a self-conscious chuckle.

The elevator opened on eleven, but I paused with my hand in the doorway.

"Where did you go?"

"I checked into a hotel and then took a few pain pills and crashed for most of the day. I'm going to do this meeting this morning and then maybe see about finding an apartment."

"Well, if there's anything I can do," I offered.

"I'm fine, Alex, but thank you. This was a long time coming."

"Hey, Captain!" Detective Meeks called out.

He was trotting in our direction holding a large file in his hand.

"You need to go," Maas said to me.

"We'll talk more later, okay?"

He nodded his agreement and I stepped off of the elevator.

"Captain, Granger called a few minutes ago. He's got the flu so he won't be able to come in today. He said he'd check in with you later."

"That's fine," I replied as we walked towards my office. "What are you working on right now?"

"The Oswald case has got me swamped, boss. I've got miles of phone logs to go through and without Granger, it's going to take me all week just to make sense of it."

"I'll see if I can find someone to give you a hand," I promised. "I've got a meeting upstairs in half an hour and after that, if I don't have someone available to work with you, then I'll help you myself, okay?"

"Great," he said. "Thank you, ma'am."

He went back to his desk and I went into my office.

I liked Meeks. He was fairly new and maybe a little overly enthusiastic, but he was definitely a hard worker. I'd put Bobby with him if he hadn't mentioned having a theory about the Schuler case. I wanted to hear his thoughts on that first.

At eight-fifteen, Bobby still hadn't shown up.

He wasn't late yet, but did it really take thirty minutes to buy coffee and walk eight blocks?

But I wasn't going to worry about him.

He'd be here.

I went through the messages on my voice mail and then started checking emails.

At eight twenty-five, I left my office and headed for the elevator.

The doors opened as I arrived and there stood Bobby and Logan.

"Are you kidding me? There's no way you're cleared for duty," I said to Logan.

"Good to see you, too, boss," he replied.

I don't know why I was surprised that he'd come in this morning. I should've expected it.

I looked at Bobby and asked, "Is that why you're late? You were waiting for your partner in crime?"

"I just ran into him in the lobby," he answered innocently. "I'm late because I had another stop to make."

"Okay. So what's your story?" I asked Logan.

"Hey, I've got a note from my doctor," he answered as he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.

"Uh huh. I'm sure you do. And should I even ask the name of the doctor who signed off on that?"

"You know doctors," he said with a shrug. "You can never read their handwriting."

"Are we going to this meeting?" Bobby asked since I was still standing in the doorway of the elevator.

"Did you get my coffee?"

He held it out to me as I got onto the elevator. I took a sip and read over the note that Logan had given me.

"I'm sure there's an ethics violation in here somewhere," I told him, although his enthusiasm had softened my mood.

I didn't want him to stay away for any reason other than that I wanted him to get better.

And maybe my dad was right. Maybe desk duty was in order. Maybe I was being over-protective.

After all, Maas was here and he was much worse off.

"Do I even want to know what you had to do to prove that you were fit for duty?" I asked him.

"Probably not," he answered, grinning broadly.

And then for some reason, he hit the stop button on the elevator and turned around so that his back was to me and Bobby.

"What's going on?" I asked him.

"I wanted to give you something," Bobby said as he reached into his pocket.

"Here? Now?"

"You never know when it might come in handy," he replied. He pulled a knife from his pocket, one that was almost identical to his, and held it out to me. "Keep this on you. Mine helped save your life twice last week, so I wanted you to have one of your own. I don't ever want you to be without it."

It was a pocketknife, being given to me in the confines of an elevator that was stopped on the floor of our boss' office, and yet the entire gesture brought tears to my eyes.

"We don't have time for a gushy thank you, Captain," Logan said without turning around.

"No, we don't," I said quietly, holding Bobby's gaze. I took the knife from his hand and tucked it into my pocket. "But thank you."

I'd be sure to properly thank him later.

"You're welcome."

"Are we good?" Logan asked.

"Push the button," I told him, unable to keep from smiling.

So he did.

The doors opened up on the floor of the Chief of D's office, and the three of us left the elevator and went into our meeting.

Our debriefing went well.

The video footage of the entire incident backed up our recount of the story and IAB only had a few questions.

"Why didn't you immediately offer CPR to the fallen suspect?"

Okay, so I didn't say they were _good_ questions.

"The suspect had a bomb strapped to his chest," I said, working hard to keep the sarcasm from my voice. "Would you have rather we saved the suspect only to have all of us get blown to bits?"

"Captain Eames makes a valid point, Detective," Moran said to the IAB guy. "Move on. What else?"

"Is it standard protocol to get assistance from the Italian mafia when making a bust?"

"No," I answered. "But that's how it worked out."

"And you just let them all walk away?"

"None of the five latecomers were guilty of any crime other than carrying a firearm," Maas said for me. "And one of them was integral to the defusing of the bomb."

"So you just let them go?"

"I prioritized," I answered. "We'd just caught a weapons dealer, a paroled felon partly responsible for the assault of a federal agent, and a terrorist."

"You mean you'd just killed them."

"Detective," Moran said sharply. "Do you need to watch this tape again? Are you really going to question whether or not Detectives Goren and Logan and Captain Maas had the right to use lethal force?"

"No, sir."

"And as for the men that Captain Eames let go…well, I would've done the same thing in her shoes. In fact, considering that Gino Bisetti had just saved her life, she was probably tempted to let him go, too. But she didn't. This was an unorthodox operation that was signed off on by me, and I think it was handled exceptionally well," Moran said firmly. "So do you have any substantive questions? Or is this meeting adjourned?"

"I think we're good," the IAB guy said.

"Great. You can go," Moran told him. He waited for a moment while he left the room and then he turned to Casteel. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Well, you've played tug-o-war with this case for the past two weeks. You gave it to us and then you tried to take it away and then you gave it back again. You offered agents to help and then you took them away. I think you were trying to set us up for failure, but it looks like you messed that up, too."

"Do you have something of value to say to me, Moran?" Casteel said defensively.

"I'd like to see you do the right thing."

"Which is what?"

"I want you to backdate Banta's suspension so that he was not acting as a federal agent at the time of his death. I want the state of New York to handle the prosecution of Gino Bisetti."

"Or what?"

"Or everything comes out. I'm tired of biting my tongue about the rash of underhanded and conniving behavior at the FBI. You want Gino? Then the truth about Agents Stahl and Banta is part of that deal."

I was shell-shocked to say the least.

I knew that Moran would stand behind us in the IAB investigation, but I hadn't expected him to play hardball with Casteel over Gino.

Casteel and Moran glared each other down for a long minute, but Casteel was the first to blink.

He stood up from the table and said, "Agent Banta was suspended from the Bureau after botching a sting three days prior to his death. Gino Bisetti is all yours."

He left the office and I looked at Moran.

"Okay, I think we're done," he said. "Captain Eames, you should arrange a meeting with the DA to discuss what kind of charges need to be brought against Gino."

"Yes, sir," I agreed quickly.

"And everyone…nice work. Really."

Maas had been quiet during most of the meeting, but afterwards he chatted with us on the way to the elevator.

"Dinner tonight," I told him. "If you're feeling up to it."

"At Pete's?" he asked with a smile.

"Where else?" Logan said.

"Sounds good. I'm going back to the hotel to get some more sleep. I'll see you guys tonight."

"Hotel?" Bobby asked me once he was out of earshot.

So I told him and Logan about what his wife had done.

"Hey, Eames, you should rent him your place," Logan said.

I glanced at Bobby and raised my eyebrow.

Not a bad idea.

It was definitely worth considering.

By ten-thirty, we were back downstairs in the squad room.

"Okay, Logan since you're on light duty, and the emphasis is on _light_, I want you to sit in with Meeks today. He's got a truckload of LUD's to comb through and he needs the help."

"You got it, boss. LUD's are my life."

"They are today," I agreed.

"You want me with Yuille and Wyatt?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, let's clear up this Schuler / Babcock thing. You said you have a theory, right?"

"Maybe," he agreed. "Give me an hour to go back through the evidence with them and see what we can come up with, and then we'll walk you through it."

"Sounds good," I agreed as I walked through the squad room toward my office.

Phones were ringing, detectives were hard at work…this was how it was supposed to be.

Moran had our back, Maas was on our side…

Damn, it was probably time for something bad to happen.

And just as I got to my office, the sprinkler system went off.

_That's better_, I thought as I laughed to myself.

Just another day in Major Case.

**The End**


End file.
